#a different grocery store is a 30 minute drive one way WHO has the time for that

[meatsound]

every time someone posts groceries with the price people like to nitpick their diet but thats not the fucking point lmaoooo

[chrysenthemums-posts]

Death and grief

It was supposed to be a simple trip, get in feed the dog and leave.

My grandfather had asked me the Saturday before today to stop by the house around 5:30 to feed his golden retriever while he was a few towns over helping family with something. I agreed immediately wanting to help and having nothing better to do, so around 3:30 I began to get ready to run a few errands around town, I was out the door by 4 and driving down the road listening to the radio, in the old truck listening to the radio felt better than listening to my playlists, I get to the optometrist so they can repair my glasses and I wait for about 15 minutes while the receptionist replaced the missing screw, and once fixed and cleaned I made my way to buy some new earbuds for the 15 hour plane ride I’m meant to go on, who wants to be without headphones I think to myself as I carry out my treasures to the truck, as I buckling in I text grandpa to have a good trip, he replies with a heart emoji, he’s getting better at texting. I make the short journey from the grocery store to his house, in the big truck I wonder if I’ll be able to fit down his road, I reassure myself by thinking I’ll be there for maybe 5 minutes. Once I get to the entrance of the neighborhood I slow my speed down immensely seeing playing children smiling fondly as the love to the sidewalk so I can drive by waving to the grandma watching them from her porch swing, everything about this makes the tears brim my eyes as I remember when those kids were me. I move through the neighborhood using muscle memory and small flashes of memory from barely being able to see out the window but just feeling the swaying of the car. I make it to the front of the house, noticing that barely anything has changed, the only thing is that the garden is over grown, she always tended so much to her beautiful yards. Remembering the instructions that grandpa had given me I look down the road for prying eyes and make my way around the house to the gate reaching over to unlatch the gate and pull it up swinging the gate toward myself and moving around it my skirt flowing in the breeze, I look around, the garden is overgrown and dying, the trampoline is gone only the metal poles laying around is left and the tree house is rotting and just a platform, I remember stories and memories of times when I’d make her watch me from the tree house onto the trampoline, she always said I’d give her a heart attack, I make my way around to the screen door and open it letting myself inside instantly Izzy the golden retriever is on me, she hasn’t seen me in months and she’s excited to see me, I look around the kitchen, nothings changed but everything’s changed, her apron is still on the hook and ways are still stained with cigarettes and it smells like her. I see the sink with one bowl and glass instead of two, Izzy leads me to her food bowl obviously hungry so I dump the dry mix into her bowl and pour a brown liquid lid that look like gravy onto it then I let her eat while I wander through the heart I can feel my heart shattering into pieces as I walk through memories, I don’t know I’m crying until I can feel the tear lines, I don’t try to wipe them , I make my way down the hall, grandpas den hasn’t changed besides the fact he’s getting rid of books and has put up pictures of her everywhere, i look into the spare bedroom that used to be my moms room but she spent the last months of her life in there, too weak to climb the stairs to her bedroom, her picture collecting dust in the corner, I look into the dark office where I could always find her and without her laptop it looks too dark the desk is lined with mom and her siblings boxes, filled with things she saved throughout their lives, the chest of drawers still has her apples and her childhood dolls lines the mirror I look in and I look different form the last time I looked into the mirror, so much has changed and then I feel Izzy she reminding me I still have to give her the bone, so I make it back to the source of my grief her kitchen, her vintage tools from her mama and my childhood pictures like the walls and pictures of her when she was healthy

[quillrosetellsstories]

How-to Pick-Up Chicks

            If you asked Stewart, the best time to pick up a woman is on the beach at night when she’s with her family. He would say, “Make sure to grab her attention as she walks by, preferably with a CD of your latest hit single, recorded in your mother’s basement.” I previously would have said, as someone who is also into women, this is not the way. But the methods in which Stewart uses to pick up women is unique to those like him, and must be studied. He would then continue on to let you know that the CD he’s just forcibly pressed into your hands does, in fact, cost. The women he is about to take home as his will be stunned by his beauty (Once again, it’s pitch black at night by the ocean) and fork over the 30 bucks he asks for.

            When he tries this maneuver, the best thing to do is deflect with uncomfortable laughter. Laugh like he’s your weird, and technically not related -as he tells you every family gathering-, uncle who sits a little too close at family gatherings. Then, break out the excuses. Lucky for me, I am always on the verge of needing to pee. This excuse is good if you’re attempting to not be followed. Why would he follow you, you may ask?

            Don’t. Don’t ask. It is imprudent to try to discover what Stewart’s might do. It ruins their good vibes and swanky demeanor. And besides, men make you feel safe, right? No need to cover this topic any further.

            He may, if you’re lucky, follow you anyways and ‘stand guard’ outside the porta-potty. Thankfully he’s very strong, and you’re not worried at all, and you haven’t lost track of your family, and Stewart has perfectly gentlemanly motives. Turns out he only wanted to make sure he got your social media username. Now, here’s where things get tricky, so pay attention to the instructions. Although you may think that the numerous pictures you have posted of your wife (holding her hand, kissing her, and getting married to her) would certainly catch Stewart’s attention, it may not. Or perhaps it does interest him greatly, and you’ve made a critical mistake. Either way, he’ll add you and scroll through them as you walk back to your family, and of course he’ll ask how old you are. The age difference doesn’t matter to Stewart, for he’ll say his trademark “Cool, cool,” even after you’ve essentially told him he’s 20 years older than you.

            At this point, I know exactly what you’re thinking: “Wow. This guy has completely won me over. I wish to be taken home and boned right now.” Wait just a moment, or you’ll miss the best part. To Stewart, this has been a successful attempt at picking up chicks, and he may go in for one final killer move, which I would call the Drive-By.

            Should you have taken his trash mixtape, maybe even paid him for it, and talked with him for a couple minutes now, Stewart will certainly be head-over-heels for you. It’s easy now for him to leave and magically find you later. It’s wonderful how he will be able to pick you out in a crowd, and bounce over to make sure he’s seen again, without actually talking to you. What does he expect to happen after this Drive-By? Some have speculated that Stewart may be trying to put on a show of his attributes, in the way that a bird might show his brightly colored feathers.

            Science is amazing!

            If only someone had told me these rules when I started picking up chicks. The dance Stewart does around the beach at night is a replica of ones at shopping malls, grocery stores, concerts, and more. Seeing this everywhere has made me an expert. Luckily, I now have the ability to put this plan into play against women. Did I say against? I meant for women. Always I had thought that Stewart’s dance only didn’t work because I didn’t like penis. Now, I give the plans for this dance to you to entice and entrap the women of your dreams!

Forever Writing,

quill rose

[mackeydoodledoo]

The Florals: Chapter 1

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x (Fem!)ReaderMC

Summary: You and your best friends are one of the most popular local bands. After a gig you meet the bartender, who has caught your eye and interest.

Chapter Warnings: Smoking [Not the Main Character]

A/n: N/A

Chapter Key: Italics = Thoughts, Bold/Indent = Text Messages, Bold/Italic = Dream Sequence, [Words] = Song lyrics, +*+ = Time skip

Chapter Theme: NO WAY! - Clubhouse

------------------------------------------------------------------

You close and lock the door to your apartment after driving 20-30 minutes with Lark to get home. You put your hands in your pockets and hear something crunch. You take it out and it's a sheet of paper. You unfold it and you find it to be a phone number… And a note.. From Wanda.

“Call me,” You read aloud

It has a simply drawn flower and a heart with Wanda’s phone number on it. You hop into bed and type in the number into your phone and text her.

Hey it’s Strel, the girl you met earlier

You initially wait for a text back immediately but none of the sort. So you decided to go to the bathroom to freshen up before you head to bed. Though a few minutes later you check your phone to see a text back.

Hey you ;)

You texted her back almost immediately, a stupid smile forming along your face. You two were talking about childhood, growing up, etc until you loose the perception of time. You look on your phone to see that it was almost 1am.

Shit...

Hey, I think I should get to bed, got work tomorrow

Okay, sounds good, I’ll text you tomorrow, Good night Strelitzia

Good night Wanda

You plug in your phone into its charger and turned out the lights as you settle yourself underneath the covers. You look out your window out your window and the road below; a few cars were still out and about. Pine’s lamp is still on. 

Must be reading still… 

You look next-door to see Lark; smoking a joint. Poppy’s apartment is dark. As well as Roses’ room. After long and gazing at the outside world your eyes finally grow heavy enough to fall asleep. Still listening to the world below.

-------------------------------------------

You open your eyes to see yourself back at Banks Theatre. However, no one else was around, not even your friends. 

“Wanda?” You look at the bartender

She turns around and low and behold, it was her. 

“Hey,” She smiles

“Care to explain to me why we’re the only ones here?” You ask, leaning over the table

“You tell me,” She replies, “But hey, wanna get out of here?” 

“To where?” You ask

“Anywhere,” She smiles

She grabs your hand and pulls you closer to her. But the second she pulls you, you’re in a whole different setting. 

“Where are we?” You ask her

The setting wasn’t anywhere familiar to you. Wanda doesn't answer you as you look down at her.

“Wanda?” You try to call to her again

Again, she doesn’t say anything but doesn’t nod either. She only smiles and finally kisses me.Once she pulls away from my lips, a smile appears across her face. She leans close to your ear.

“You can run away with me, anytime you want,” Wanda whispers

------------------------------------------

You jolt awake, sighing as your phone alarm goes off. You let out a tired groan and grab it to shut off the alarm. You take a look through your notifications and immediately see a text from Wanda.

Morning sleepy head

Morning :)

Did you sleep well hun?

Yeah, yeah I did, hbu?

Not very much, couldn’t sleep

Awh, I’m sorry love, hey why don’t I bring you something to your work? A little pick-me-up from yours truly

That actually sounds good ;). Wanna bring it over when I head to my lunch break? And where do you work?

Just at Guitar center here in town. You?

I work at a grocery store, I think where you work isn’t too far from where you are.

Really? Great! I’ll see you then!

It’s a date!

Wait…. Did she say… Date???

You get out of bed and finally got around to freshening up, grabbing a quick breakfast and grabbing your coffee to go. You put on your jacket and stick your lanyard which has your essentials into one pocket and your phone into the other. You take the elevator down to the garage to head to your car. The Guitar Center you specifically worked at is about 20 minutes north from where you live. 

“Alrighty my boy,” You speak to your car, turning the key in the ignition, “Lets go back to our regularly scheduled lives shall we?”

You throw in in some beats from spotify, a playlist meant for everyday life. The first song that played as soon as you hit the big green button was “NO WAY!” by Clubhouse.

[If you want honesty, then you’re better off alone] [Went too far, you crushed my heart] [How you gonna fight me when you’re wearing his cologne?] [You break me down, shit’s way too loud]

It had barely been a full 24 hours but you already missed being in rehearsal with your friends and performing. Though you all still have shows after the summer time, but they’ll but not be as frequent as summer time would. Rather than performing every other weekend, it’d be date picked and agreed on between all five of you two to three weekend nights.

[Woah babe, what you on?] [That shit must be potent] [The smoke, haze in my lungs] [Makes it unimportant] [It's a cold case, my love] [We should probably seal it] [There's no way we could unfeel the way we feeling]

You pull into the parking lot of Guitar Center and hop out of the car. As soon as you shut the car door, you put your coffee mug on the top. Before heading inside to clock in, you tie your front bangs up into a half-up, half-down hairstyle. 

Easier to work when nothing is in your face right?

You grab your coffee mug and began walking to the doors, locking your car once you reach the front doors of your workplace. Realizing you didn't have proper keys to unlock the door, you use your knuckle to knock on it. 

“Good morning Phoenix,” Roy smiles, unlocking the door to let you in

Even since working there, Roy always found a fascination with your natural hair color. As it wasn’t really natural at all; he always called you ‘Phoenix’ since day one.

"’Sup,” You greet him

He lightly punches my shoulder and I clock into work.

“Since everybody’s back to school or work, big chances are it’ll be slow today,” Roy states

You nod and go into the drum/cymbals area. your best sales were always with drums, drum heads and accessories. Roy was more of the in-general store manager of the place. You sit behind the drumset and grab some sticks that were in the stick bag. Roy never minded you drumming while the store was open, just as long as you were able to greet/assist anyone and everyone who would come through the drums area.

+*+

The long hours of the morning go by slow. Here and there there would be on looking customers but not really coming up to me and asking me about anything.

“Strel,” Roy calls

You look up from the set you haven’t gotten up from for who knows how long.

“You’re free to take lunch right now if you want,” He says

Huh? Lunch? Already?

You take out your phone and it’s already past noon. You get up from the chair, nearly falling over due to your legs being asleep for most of the time. Every step of the way to the punch in-out clock was walking on a bunch of pins and needles.

“Just a heads up,” You start, finally reaching to the clock, “I might be back late. Hopefully not but I’m only saying this just in case.”

Roy raises his hand above his head, meaning he heard what you told him, even if his back was turned to you.

“That’s fine, just keep me posted,” Roy waves

You head out to the local diner to pick up lunch for you and Wanda. Slightly busy but that’s with the dine-in people.

“Heyyy Strelitzia,” Pappo says from the kitchen, “What can I get for you today?”

“I have two orders for you Pappo,” You say, “Two cheeseburger meals, one with a vanilla creme soda and a cherry cola.”

“Will you ever get over your obsession with vanilla creme sodas?” He asks

“Never,” You smile

He smiles back at you and gets to your order. You reach into your wallet and slip a small handful of bills into the tip jar, to give at least an even split between everybody working in the diner and take a seat. It wasn’t long before Pappo comes out of the kitchen with a decently sized bag.

You step in and I see Wanda. And I see him… Oliver. He’s in another band; My Heart Your Teeth. A rivaling band. He’s their bass player. 

[There’s no way we could unreel the way we feeling]

He sees me and he groans…

“If it isn’t fire head,” He announces

[I think you’re crazy] [We do this daily]

Wanda turns around and she smiles, she immediately runs over to you

“Hey you,” She says completely ignore Oliver and focus on you 

"Don't listen to her Wanda," He starts, "She'll just use you and break your heart."

"Unlike how you leave all of the girls you wanna hit up on read," You call back, "Didn't you leave one of my best friends on read? And how she came crying to me about how you guys were supposed to go on a date and you stood her up. You didn't answer any of her texts."

He gives me a death glare. He comes marching up to you. He was about to open his mouth to make a come back however his boss calls him back over.

“You already took your lunch to go smoke!” His boss says

[Bet you could never call my bluff] [Unless something's up] [Boiling my blood] [Burning up my cut]

You watch him hop back onto a register as Wanda leads you to an outdoor seating patio outside the store. You and Wanda organize the food. She brushes one side of her hair back. However, the wind continued to brush it all over her face. You stand up and walk over to the other side to stand behind her.

“What are you doing?” Wanda asks

“Helping you tie your hair back,” You say

You did a similar half-up, half-down hairstyle to yours.

"There," I say, smiling, "Now you won't have any sauce or crumbs in your hair."

You seatyoursele back in the opposite chair across from the other woman and take a sip out of your pop. 

"So, you and Oliver know each other?" Wanda asks between bites of her burger

"Yes but we're not all close friends," You state, "what I told him for what he did to my best friend, that is true." 

She looks at you in surprise as she continues chewing.

"Since then I never forgave him," You say, "I hate him and his friends. Because they probably believed what he told them. But Roy, I think he's his cousin. I like him. He works with me at the Guitar Center up the road." 

“Is that why I hear him rant about how ‘The Florals’ have privilege over them?” She asks

“What?” You ask

“Yeah, sometimes when we’re on break he would rant about how you guys have a better rehearsal spot, better equipment, better advertising,” She explains to you

“That’s only because Banks Theatre, is owned by our bass players’ father,” You start, “We save up our money; by working our asses off by working like full time employees and we have our families post, of course, we don’t ask them to post it but we’re okay with it if they do. We’re not really privileged. We worked our way to have a great rehearsal spot, we saved up money for our equipment and our own places.”

Wanda looks surprised as she puts her burger down to eat some fries. 

“Sorry... It’s just, we’re rivaling bands,” You mention, “So I guess it’s expected. Though I don’t rant and make up things like he does.”

Wanda giggles and the two of you finish out the rest of your lunch, talking about other things. You decide to walk Wanda back into the grocery store.

“Thanks for Lunch today Strel,” Wanda says

“You’re welcome,” You smile

You watch her walk back into the store but she stops. Just before the automatic doors close, she catches one last glimpse of you and winks and flirt waves to you ‘bye’.

Was that... Flirting????

As soon as you walked right back into work, you had come back in the nick of time. The store was absolutely packed. You quickly clock back in and begin making your way to find Roy.

“Roy!” I call out, “Hi how are you? Hi how are you? I’ll be with you in a minute.”

You repeated those phrases and found him with Charlie; My Heart Your Teeth’s Guitar/Singer. 

“Roy, the floor is busy with customers,” You state, “Where have you been?”

“Seriously?” he asks, “I was busy talking to Charlie.”

Likewise with Oliver, Charlie doesn’t like you very much either but not as much as Oliver does. 

“We got a full house that’s about to start rioting if we don’t head out there,” You state

Roy follows you out to the main floor where a lot of customers had come to gather. 

+*+

By closing time there was only two people left. A dad and his little girl. She was excited to have her first ukulele. Roy took care of them as you begin clocking out. You depart ways with Roy and head to your car.

I wonder if Wanda’s still working...

You decided to drive down to Wanda’s workplace. Sure enough she was still there, but with Oliver. But, the look on Wanda’s face didn’t sit right with you...

Chapter 2

[nordic-language-love]

i see a lot of “anxiety is...” posts circulating and it makes anxiety sound all dark and poetic and tragic and yeah okay anxiety is a lot of crying alone in your room but it’s also a lot of dumb shit like:

peeing in the dark at other people’s houses bc their bathroom has multiple switches and you’re scared one of them is the house’s self-destruct button

not buying the groceries you need bc the other person in the aisle might judge your choice of yoghurt brand and start laughing at you, then call everyone in the entire store over to laugh at you too

worrying that you’ve accidentally telepathically posted that weird/mean/dirty thought you just had to your facebook

trying to settle into a nice daydream but then your brain makes it ALL GO WRONG and then you end up crying bc in your mind you just killed all your friends and now you’re in jail and your family won’t talk to you and you have to remind yourself that it’s not fucking real?? like fuck you imagination why can’t we have nice things

turning up like an hour early to events bc you have to account for traffic and finding parking and the fact you’ll probably make a wrong turn and get lost in a one-way system, and you absolutely CANNOT BE LATE bc if you arrive late there’ll be nowhere to sit and people will look at you as you walk in and then they’ll laugh at you bc you walk funny and you have nowhere to sit

turning up like 30 minutes early to things you regularly attend bc despite the fact you know the walk only takes 15 minutes you doubt your own judgement and assume it takes 45 and this happens EVERY SINGLE TIME my GOD why do you never LEARN

making up some last-minute excuse to not go to an event bc you aren’t sure what the dress code is and you’re sure everyone else just has an intrinsic knowledge of these things and they’ll all laugh at you if you ask (even if it’s been explicitly stated bc it might have changed and people forgot to tell you or specifically didn’t tell you so you’d turn up in the wrong thing so they can all laugh at you)

secretly wondering if the only reason you got invited to dinner is so they can poison you so they can finally be rid of your dumb annoying ass

(not that you'd go to dinner anyway bc what if you don’t like what they’re cooking and you have to either not eat it or be sick? and what if they laugh at you bc you eat weirdly? oh my god do not get me started on this just trust me going to dinner is the actual worst)

going to the doctor to talk about a problem you actually have (ie your anxiety) but you’re scared they’ll think you’re faking or just stupid so you chicken out of telling them and just make up a different problem that you don’t even have to justify your being there

just kinda assuming that every time you leave a room people start talking about what a stupid and awful person you are and how hilarious it is that you think they like you

spending like 3 hours debating the phrasing of the ‘happy birthday’ message you’re trying to write on someone’s facebook wall before just giving up bc they probably don’t even like you anyway

being scared to think dumb thoughts bc you’re worried people can read your mind and they all think you’re a stupid freak, i mean god who actually thinks things like that??

getting panicky at the thought of having to drive somewhere that you’ve literally driven a hundred times before bc wtf driving is so dangerous and terrifying why on earth does anyone do it and you’re convinced you can’t actually drive and you’re definitely going to crash

not being able to sleep bc you have a weird spot on your face that is probably literally just a spot but you’re 100% convinced it’s face cancer and now you’re gonna die

(feel free to reblog and add your own so we can all laugh at our dumb brains together bc honestly i actually find it really helpful to acknowledge that my anxiety thoughts are super dumb and the situations my brain perceives as life-or-death are actually not a big deal at all)

[shemarmooresfedora]

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A/N: hello, my loves! i am a senior in high school so the next two weeks are going to be extremely hectic for me with final exams and other senior stuff. i will try to get out chapters when i can but they may not always be on time!

Masterlist

Chapter 30

You returned home to see Spencer at the kitchen table with his laptop out and a bunch of papers sprawled out in front of him.

“What’s all this?” you asked.

“So you know how we were discussing moving into a slightly bigger house to have room for the twins,” Spencer said, “I found us a realtor and I have been printing out different houses that fit our requirements all day. You can go through them and I’ll send the approved ones over to her so she can schedule us a tour.”

“Alright, let’s see them,” you smiled, taking the seat next to him.

His hand immediately found its way to your belly and began his rubbing motions.

“This one is close to Jo's elementary school but she will only be there for 2 more years but the twins will be going there eventually. It’s just a little bit of a bigger yard than we have here. But, it’s pretty far away from your work,” Spencer stated.

He continued to go through the contenders, thoroughly explaining every pro and con that you wouldn’t even have thought of.

“This last one has the biggest backyard of them all. It’s about 8 minutes closer to your work than here. It’s even got a little sun room we can use as a book nook! It is farther from Jo’s school but it’s about a 3 minute drive to JJ and Will’s so we could start a carpool with them,” Spencer spoke.

“I think that one is my favorite as of now. And, I’m sure Jo wouldn’t have any arguments about being closer to her best friend,” you giggled.

“There’s also one more thing we need to brainstorm,” you began, “Names for the little ones. I honestly spent the better part of the day trying to think of some but I just can’t.”

“I have an idea,” Spencer smiled softly, “Ophelia.”

It was Spencer’s favorite song on your playlist that you played in the car. He even sang along to it sometimes, he actually had a nice voice when he wholeheartedly sang without caring about potentially embarrassing himself.

“Heaven help a fool who falls in love,” you grinned, finishing the lyric.

“I’m stuck on a boy name though,” Spencer huffed.

Jo came strolling into the kitchen to get her afternoon snack.

“Baby J, do you have any name suggestions for your little brother?” you asked.

Her face lit up and she ran back upstairs. She came racing back down with two books in her hand.

“Daddy, remember?” she held up a picture book.

“That’s the story I read you last night,” Spencer nodded.

“Name him ‘Oliver’ like the little baby elephant in the book!” she exclaimed.

“I actually love it,” you grinned.

“Ollie for short,” Spencer added with a smile.

“And for sister, Pinkalicious!” Jo beamed, holding up the other picture book.

“Aw, baby, I’m sorry. I think we already decided on ‘Ophelia’ for sister but we’ll keep that in the back of our minds,” you told her, giving her a pat on the head before she went back upstairs.

“I don’t know Spencer, Pinkalicious Y/L/N-Reid has quite the ring to it,” you giggled.

-

Your maternity leave had officially begun the week before you were due. You were lounging on the couch watching a nature documentary with Jo when you felt the sudden urge to use the bathroom.

As you stood, you felt the rushing of warm water trail down your thighs, effectively soaking your leggings, followed by a searing cramping sensation.

You immediately sat down on the hardwood floor, cringing in pain and exhaling sharply.

“Jo,” you breathed out, “I need you to call Daddy and tell him the twins are coming and get me a towel please.”

“Okay, Mommy,” Jo nodded, hopping off the couch and grabbing your phone.

She pressed Spencer’s contact as she ran upstairs to get you a towel.

Spencer was in the checkout line at the grocery store when his phone started to buzz in his pocket.

He fished it out, seeing your contact pop up, “Hey, love. I’m already in line but if you need something, make it quick so I can go run and get it.”

“Daddy! It’s Jo,” Jo announced from the other side of the phone.

“Hi, Princess. Is everything okay?” Spencer asked.

“Mommy peed a lot,” she started to say.

Spencer then heard your scream of pain in the background.

“And she said the twins are coming,” Jo stated.

“Uh-um-okay Jo, tell Mommy I’ll be there in 10 minutes. And um call Auntie JJ to come pick you up,” Spencer frantically spoke.

“Next,” the cashier called out.

“Um hi, I just got a call that my wife is going into labor so I have to go. I’m so sorry.”

The cashier smiled, “No problem. I think your wife needs you a lot more right now than these groceries.”

“Thank you,” Spencer rushed out of the store, breaking every speed limit on the way home.

JJ was pulling into the driveway at the same time Spencer was.

“Oh good, Jo called you,” Spencer said, exiting his car, “Thank you for taking her.”

“It’s no problem. She can stay with us for as long as you need,” JJ replied as they both rushed into the house.

You were still on the ground, sitting on the towel Jo retrieved for you.

“Spence, it hurts so bad like really really bad. Worse than Jo,” you grabbed his hand with tears running down your face.

“I’m so sorry, love, that I can’t take some of that pain away but we’ve got to get you to the hospital with doctors and nurses who can help,” he spoke softly, wiping the tears from your eyes with his thumbs.

You nodded and Spencer held out his arm for you to grab on to so he could help you up.

“Hospital bag?” you questioned.

“Already in the car, love. You’re doing so good, look we’re almost at the car,” he encouraged you.

“I’m going to ruin your seat,” you huffed out, motioning to your soggy pants.

“Love, that is the furthest of my concerns right now,” he assured you, helping you into the car and buckling you in.

-

“My wife’s in labor!” Spencer announced as he helped you hobble into the ER.

Immediately, a nurse rolled a wheelchair over to you.

“I called in the car. Dr. Collins is supposed to be on call,” Spencer said.

“Yes, right this way,” the nurse guided you to a room in the delivery wing where Dr. Collins was already waiting.

“Ah, the Reids! I guess the babies decided to come out a week early,” she smiled as Spencer and the nurse helped you into the bed.

“I’m going to check to see how many centimeters dilated you are. You can start pushing at 10,” she stated, “...and you are somehow already there. These babies are very eager to meet their parents!”

“I’m going to check the ultrasound real quick,” Dr. Collins rolled the machine over to you and scanned the wand across your belly.

“So unfortunately, we aren’t going to be able to have a vaginal birth today like planned. The baby girl is ready to come out first but she is in breech position meaning she is flipped the opposite way we want her. We’re going to bring you up to the OR for a C-section, okay?”

You looked at Spencer panickedly.

“Scared, Spence” is all you could muster.

“I can be in there with her, right?” Spencer asked.

“That is correct,” Dr. Collins nodded.

“Love, you are the strongest and bravest person I know. You can do this,” Spencer brushed your stray hairs back, “I will be right by your side the whole time and then you can finally have Ophelia and Oliver in your arms.”

“Okay,” you nodded, wincing as another contraction intensified.

“I love you so much,” Spencer kissed the top of your head as they wheeled you up to the OR.

The nurse handed Spencer scrubs to put on over his normal clothes, “Love, I need to let go of your hand for just a second to put these on but then I’ll be right back.”

Spencer continued to give you words of encouragement and promises of all the things you were going to do together as a family with the new babies to distract you from the discomfort throughout the c-section.

When you heard the first cry, you started to get choked up.

“Oh god, she’s so beautiful, Y/N. We made that,” Spencer sobbed.

You squeezed his hand, “Go.”

“Are you sure?” Spencer asked.

“Ophelia is crying for her Daddy,” you smiled through happy tears.

Spencer stood and was out of your line of vision but you could still hear his occasional sobs and him calling out the weight and other things to you from across the room.

You heard the second distinct cry. You could already tell your babies apart from just their wails alone.

“Ollie’s here, love!” Spencer bawled, “He’s just as precious as Ophelia.”

You were stitched up and brought into the recovery room as the babies were measured, tested, and swaddled. Spencer rolled two bassinets into your room with the biggest smile on his face and watery eyes.

“I can’t believe they’re here,” you wept, “How are they so cute?”

Spencer gently lifted up Ollie and placed him into your left arm and then Ophelia in your right.

You held the cooing babies in your arms, looking down at them in complete awe.

“Spence, can you take one of them?” you asked, “I mean I would love to hold them both forever but I’m thoroughly exhausted.”

“Ollie seems to be on the same page,” Spencer smiled at the little boy snoozing in your arms, “I’ll take Ophelia for a little walk and make some phone calls to our families and the team.”

Sleeping didn’t seem to be on Ophelia’s schedule as she was staring around the room with her big wide eyes, trying to take in the whole world.

“Ophelia, that’s your Dada,” you explained to her even though you knew she couldn’t understand.

“Yes, I’m your Dada,” Spencer beamed as he accepted the baby into his arms.

taglist: (just ask to be added or removed!): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @rem-ariiana

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Inked

Still on hiatus. But I found an old piece of writing and I revamped it just a smidge! It was originally published in 2018 on calumh-excess. Which is now deactivated. Hooray for finding pieces!

Calum's been watching Jay for a while. She's cute, talented, but a bit of mystery. Should he really give into her? What will it take for him to admit he has a crush?

Enjoy my masterlist (on hiatus)

______________

He watched her sometimes for far too long. The way her tongue stuck out as she pulled the skin and her hand worked steadily with the needle made it hard for him to resist. Her face always seemed to catch the harsh fluorescent lights and reflect it back so that it twinkled against her skin. A slight sheen, but nothing just of ethereal. He wasn’t even interested in any new ink, not seriously anyway. He had slowed on the ink train, but the shop his tattoo artist owned was a nice place to hang out sometimes. When he wanted to get out of his house but didn’t want to actually go somewhere, he could hang out here, listening to the buzz of the tattoo gun, poke his hand at trying a design here or there. They weren't great. He hadn't considered him this kind of artist, but the shop felt like a second home.

Besides, having her around was a more than welcomed bonus.

He wasn’t even sure what it was about her. She showed up about a year and a half ago, under an apprenticeship. Calum’s artist was unsure of her, much like everyone else that asked to work under him. A hazard of the job, according to the job, according to Calum's artist. However, her drawings spoke volumes; the colors and line work were impeccable. She had talent and knew it without being cocky about it. Well, sometimes she wasn’t. Calum watched her run into the occasional asshole that tried to belittle her; she always put her foot down in those situations. He didn’t fault her.

Today’s no different. When Calum walks in, he greets the guy at the front desk, eyes searching for her. He spots her in the back with her oversized frames creating a small glare over her brown eyes. He never quite got the appeal of the grandma-shaped glasses trend, but on her, they worked. She looked wise but soft. The glass pulled him in, felt like she was seeing into his soul. Maybe she was; maybe the pain made people more vulnerable than they anticipated--entrusting someone, a stranger in some ways, to permanently mark you and not fuck it up. Whatever the reason, looking at her felt timeless. Like she had seen it all, and you are just waiting for you to spill all the secrets.

“You finally going to get some new ink?” Calum’s artist teases.

Calum shakes his head, turning his attention away from her. “You finally took her training wheels off?”

“Your girlfriend’s got mad skills. I couldn’t baby her forever. Jay works hard on each piece, learned fast. Got a steady ass hand and pretty gentle for handling a needle.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Yeah, because you haven’t hardly even talked to her. Go for it, you wuss. What’s the worst she says? No?”

Calum exhales a chuckle. "I mean, the worst she stabs me with the tattoo gun. But considering the ink I'm already sporting, I doubt that's really all that bad.”

“Jay would not do that unless you asked for it, ff course. But really, go on, ask her out.”

Calum glances back at Jay. It’s a nickname. No one in the shop calls her by her full name. The only reason Calum heard it was when a client came asking for her. Jay was quick to correct them.

She wipes, clearing excess ink, before dipping back into the small cup. Jay smiles up at her client. Calum's sure they appreciate the reprise. Getting tattoos weren't always fun, but bearable enough to forget about it and get more.

Calum turns his gaze away. “I recommended you to a friend,” he says, hoping that he’ll escape the teasing. It’s not likely to happen. But at least he tries to minimize the ridicule.

"I appreciate it. Are they a first-timer?"

"A second-timer, but they're visiting town and want some new ink. I figured best not to fuck them over."

The two men laugh before Calum's escorted back to look through some new designs. Just in case something sparks his interest. Calum's visit is supposed to be short, but there's not much else on his to-do list for the day. He could kill a few hours here.

When Calum comes out from the back, after spending too much time pretending art was ever a talent of his, he looks for Jay again. She’s not in her corner, nor is she at the front. Calum shrugs, figuring she might have gone for lunch, or home depending.

As Calum walks to his car, he checks his phone. Nothing major's happened.

“Leaving so soon?” A voice states. Calum knows that voice, a little gravelly, mostly sweet. He’s dreamt of it every so often. He prays to hear it when he visits the shop.

He turns to Jay, who leans against the bricks. A vape is wrapped in her fingers. “Gotta get some dinner, maybe make a run to the grocery store," Calum returns. "I've gotten lazy."

She nods. “This reminds me that I can't survive off BLTs forever," she laughs.

"You could try, but I think you'd need other vegetables and some fruit in that mix too."

She pushes up on her glass with a nod. "Ah, yes, gotta get the whole food pyramid." It goes silent between them and Calum gives another nod, raising a few fingers to signal his departure while still keeping his phone in a secure enough grip.

"Hey, wait!" Jay calls out again, taking a half step forward. Calum turns to her. "Can I give you something before you leave?”

Calum nods, not trusting his voice. What would she give him? She nods back to the front door, taking back that initial half-step. “It's inside. Give me like two minutes.”

She disappears inside and Calum stands, his phone still in his hands, staring at the spot she once stood. Just as quickly as she disappeared, Jay reappears. In hand is her portfolio. She flips through before stopping and slides the heavy-duty drawing paper out.

Calum stares down at the green and black drawing. It’s his face, for the most part, that stares back at him. It’s distorted by a crystal ball that glows green. Inside are some instruments and something else, but right now he can’t really put it all together. His eyes keep moving over the lightning bolt, the crystal ball, the uncanniness of his face on a piece of paper, his three-dimensional face somehow translated perfectly into a 2-D space.

“Holy shit, this is amazing,” he breathes. “Thank you,” he says looking back up to her.

She shrugs with a smile. “You’re welcome.”

“Seriously, this is so fucking awesome. I’m going to frame it,” he gushes. He’s too excited to be nervous, or be embarrassed. "What are the dimensions?"

“I'm just really glad you don’t find it too creepy. I was watching you a couple weeks ago when you stopped by. It just sort hit me, the image of the crystal ball and lightning bolt; I had to draw it,” Jay elaborates. "And it's 8.5 by 11--standard printer paper size."

Calum shakes his head, staring over the drawing again. It feels so delicate suddenly in his hands. It’s almost like Jay recognizes the change in his handling. She shuffles her load in her hands and pulls out an empty plastic over. “Here,” she laughs handing it over. “So it doesn’t smudge or anything if you're worried."

Calum slides it in. “Thank you. Again. Seriously.”

“You’re welcome, Calum. Good luck with your grocery store trip and dinner,” Jay nods and then heads back inside. Calum watches the way the denim stretches across her hips, the way her hair billows just a little in the breeze of her strut.

For a moment, Calum can't move. The weight of the paper in his hand is hardly ounces, but it holds him--traps him to the point of the sidewalk. Jay thought enough of him to draw him. What did it all mean? Should he have found the courage to ask her out? He could walk back inside. But what if she didn't like him like that? Would it be too weird?

Calum blinks up into the hardly settling sun and thinks to himself, the second he can come back here, it better be with a bit more courage and possibly a gift certificate. No one can be made about free food, right?

It’s months before Calum can visit the shop again. The tour is a whirlwind and he only gets a few days off between legs. Not long enough to get back home or feel like he had any energy to drive out to the shop. But now that he's settled back in at home, he knows exactly where he's going.

It’s not his typical practice to just walk in and ask for a tattoo. But given the ink already on him, worse things could happen. When he pulls open the door, he notices it's kind of slow. Jay greets him at the front desk. “Hey, stranger,” she grins.

“Hey, how are you?” he asks in return.

“Pretty good. How was it? The tour? See any cool places?”

He nods. “Yeah, got to explore a few cities.” He taps his fingers against the wooden desk. “Do you have an appointment anytime soon?”

Jay shakes her head. “My 2 o’clock had to reschedule. I’m here until 4 before I see anyone. Why? What's tickling your fancy?”

“I was wondering if you could do a tat for me? I know this is very last minute and if you need me to come in another day this week, I totally can.” His words run into each other; his palms start to sweat. He wipes them on his jeans.

Jay laughs, holding up a hand. “Whoa, pump the brakes. One, what are you looking for?”

“You know that drawing you did for me?” She nods. “I was kind of hoping you could create something with just the crystal ball and lightning bolt. I know the drawing itself is kind of big.”

A grin lifts her cheeks; Calum’s heart settles for a second. “I think I can do that. Where are you thinking to put it?”

“Inner bicep.” He watches her gaze land on his arm. The t-shirt is baggy, he at least thought about that with enough advance.

“Give me 30 minutes to come up with some sketches.” Jay pushes away from the front desk and heads to the back, but not for calling to the shop to watch the front desk.

Calum slides into the seat at the front, leg bouncing as he settles down. This isn’t even his first tattoo, but the nerves flood his body. His scalp tingles. The thirty minutes move by too fast, but also too slow simultaneously. The seconds feel like hours but move by milliseconds.

Eventually, Jay resurfaces, waving him over to her. He walks back and looks at the sketches she places out in front of him. There are two different ones. One’s a bit more minimalistic, which is her style, with the lightning bolt in the background and a simple crystal ball at the point. The other is a bit bolder, the ball has a slightly warped edge where it connects to the bolt. It looks like the bolt is melting the glass ball.

“I can whip up more if neither one of them are quite right. But I wasn’t sure if it wanted something a bit more crisp and sharp or not,” Jay explains.

Calum admits that most of his tattoos are more cleaned up and sharp. He likes the idea of playing with a new style. “I like the second one,” he says, tapping it.

“You sure?” He nods, he’s never been more sure of something in his life. “Which bicep? Let me line it up and make sure it’ll fit.”

Calum lifts his left arm up for her. Laying the stencil over his skin, Jay notes she has to make a couple small tweaks. But after that, she’ll be ready. They discuss full color, or just outline, or shading, price, and a few other details before Jay concludes with, “Hop in my seat. I’ll be there soon.”

Calum nods and walks over to her station. Her stuff is already laid out, probably for her canceled 2 o’clock. It’s about five more minutes before Jay returns with the final stencil. Calum rolls up the sleeve of his shirt before she places the stencil. Happy with the placement, he stretches out on the table.

Jay gets herself ready before she brings the needle over his skin. The first puncture always makes him jolt a little, the first jab of pain causes his heart to race. “Do you plan on relaxing now that you're back home?"

"Yeah, for a little bit. I might go see my family, but I know we'll be back in the studio soon. Anything exciting happen while I was gone?"

"I mean exciting things happen every day at this place. But it's not like I could recall them all now."

Calum hums, acknowledging her statement, but not quite sure what to say next. Luckily, Jay's faster to fill in the silence. "You do realize you didn’t have to get a tattoo to have a real conversation with me?” Jay teases, pushing up her glasses.

Calum’s cheeks heat. “It’s not like that,” he chuckles.

“Well, that’s how it seems.”

“You were always busy when I stopped by. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Not always,” she laughs. “But it’s alright. You’re going to have plenty of time while I’m stabbing you to say all those things you didn’t.”

A chuckle escapes him; of course, Jay would have this sense of humor. “Wow, I can’t believe I’m paying so much for people just to stab me and act as a therapy. Maybe I am a masochist.”

“So are a lot of people. Sometimes you just take the emotional pain out in the physical realm.”

“I always imagined people that worked in a tattoo shop to be more heavily tatted,” Calum hums, taking in scattered ink across her arms and one pokes out from the V in her t-shirt.

“I focused it more on my back and legs and not so much my arms. I’m getting there. So, why this one today?”

Calum goes to shrug, but stops himself as he hears the gun nearing his skin again. “Not really sure. It looked cool. I guess it also serves to remind me that fate isn’t linear. There’s going to be twists and turns, maybe some trouble. And that’s okay. Don’t be afraid of the journey. Also, it's really fucking cool art.”

Jay hums her laugh, “Why thank you. Wise brain you got there. Besides, it seems like you also have people you keep close to you.” She eyes the initials and the name under the bird. “Whoever they are to you, I hope you all stay close.”

“Those are my parents' initials,” he explains. “And my sister’s name. They’ve been with me through it all--I love them dearly.”

“So sweet. I wish my parents and I were closer. I tattooed my brother’s jersey number on me. It was my first tattoo.”

“What did he play?”

“Soccer, or for your kind, football.”

“Hey now, it’s played with the feet, it makes much more sense.”

Jay laughs, wiping off excess ink. She cocks her head to the side a little, then goes back in for the black ink. “I’m only teasing. Us Americans are so dumb sometimes. Like why is our football not called something else? Literally, the only thing that happens with the feet is the running. We carry the fucking ball.”

“I’ve wondered that as well!” he laughs. "Does your brother still play?"

“Yeah, the whole knucklehead still plays for his college.”

“What position?”

Jay laughs. “I'll have you know my job as the older sister is to show up and cheer him on. Something defensive? I don’t remember off the top my head.”

“I’ll give you credit for that. I’m sure he appreciates it.”

“He does until he sees with me in face paint on and then he’s acting like he doesn’t know me. Oh, oh wait, I think remember what he does. It’s defensive,” she pauses, lips pursed together, “something fielder.”

“Defensive midfielder?” he asks.

“Yeah, that. But like I said, I show up when I can and scream. That’s it. When he’s old enough, I’ll buy him a beer after his games too.”

“How old is he?”

“Nineteen, we’re three years apart.”

“The only sibling you have?”

“Nah, got a baby sister too. She’s fifteen. If you’re impressed by my eyeshadow thank her. Because she’s the one that taught me how to do it.”

Calum finds himself staring at the red and gold coloring her eyelids. “It looks really nice,” he breathes.

“Why thank you.” She pauses to bats her eyelashes. “I even managed to get those godforsaken falsies on right too. They look good, but the raise hell.”

“I think you’re the first woman I’ve met in LA that’s not obsessed with makeup,” he notes.

“Oh, you were doing so well. There are a lot of people of who aren’t huge in the makeup scene.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he tries to backtrack. “I’m sorry. In my experience, it’s not like that. They’re hiding the fact they aren’t wearing makeup--embarrassed by it or something.”

Jay nods, pushing up her glasses yet again. “Yeah, it’s not easy. We’re told to be perfect, but in reality, we’re just like everyone. We’re human, imperfect and flaw-full and beautiful.”

“Not in spite of, but because of.”

“Exactly,” she chuckles. Silences settles in around them. Calum wonders why she said she was closer to her family, but the way she talks about her siblings doesn’t match. She’s cheering her brother on at his game; she’s sitting down to learn makeup with and from her sister.

“Can I ask a bit of a personal question?” he asks.

“What kind of personal? Do I get a lifeline?”

Cal exhales a laugh. “You can always say no.”

“Hit me with it.”

“Why say that you’re family isn’t close but you clearly take a lot of pride in your siblings?”

“An observant one on my table, I see. It’s my parents. They don’t like that I’m pansexual, say I’m going to hell. My siblings don’t fucking care. I’m still the crazy-ass sister that loves and supports them.”

With a hum of acknowledgment from Calum, it goes quiet again around them for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. He knows it doesn’t really fix anything for her; it doesn’t take away the potential years of her suffering. It’s the only thing he can offer her though. It feels right to say.

“Oh, no need for you to be sorry. It’s not like you threw me out of the house.”

“Ouch. You’re making it though right?”

“Yeah, now that I work here, things are on the up and up.”

“That’s good; I’m glad.”

“Thanks.”

“Favorite tattoo you’ve done?” he asks, wanting to hear her voice again.

“This one,” she laughs. “Though I had someone ask for a pin-up witch, which was also pretty fucking cool to do.”

Calum remembers seeing that on her Instagram. “That one was amazing! Her lips looked so good; I know that’s a strange thing to admit.”

“Don’t worry. I am quite proud of that myself.”

“Do you have a favorite tattoo on you?”

“The blue jay on my shoulder. My parents would take me on walks when I was still an infant. According to the legend, while they were sitting on a park bench a blue jay landed on me. I didn’t cry; it didn’t hurt me. It just landed for a second and then flew off. They called me Blue Jay ever since. I just shortened the nickname as I got older.” She gives one more wipe. “Finished. Check it out.”

Calum sits up, walking over to the mirror. He grins seeing the melting ball sitting against his skin. He grins over to Jay. “It looks amazing. Thank you.”

“No problem.” They head back over to her station. Jay cleans it and wraps the fresh ink. Calum carefully gets his sleeve back down with a little help from Jay. He pays their agreed price with his card, but slides two fifties over to her. “You do know that’s more than double a twenty percent tip right?”

Calum shrugs. “Is it? I’m bad at math,” he grins. “Treat your sister to a new palette or something. Treat yourself to something.”

“Thank you. Now next time, you come by, I hope we don’t talk while I’m stabbing you repeatedly.”

Calum shakes his head, a grin still on his face. Of course. He had forgotten to get the gift certificate. But possibly asking Jay to dinner wouldn't be such a bad idea. “Give me your number and I can promise the next time we talk, it won’t in your chair.”

She holds out her hand, waiting. He hands her his phone, after unlocking it. She puts her number in. She goes to hand the phone back but just before his fingers touch it, she draws it back. "I mean it--actually text me. I adore memes, dogs, TikToks, your favorite songs."

"I'll actually talk to you. I promise."

Jay hands over his phone with a smile. Calum steps outside the glass doors. Why should he wait? He could do it now. For fuck sake, the last hour had been the groundwork for a clear sign a date was absolutely an option. His fingers hovering over her name. He taps it, and then presses for a call. Holding the phone to his ear, he listens to it ring for a second.

“I can still see you, you know?” Jay laughs.

Calum turns around, catching her leaning against the front desk. “I told you the next time we talked you wouldn’t be inking me.”

“What can I help you with, Calum?”

“Dinner, tonight-- I may have ordered too many appetizers for just little old me."

Her laugh trickles in over the speaker. She drops her head, giving it a shake before looking back up to him in the afternoon sun. “I think I can help you with that. Give me the time and place."

Calum rattles off the name of a restaurant that he had been wanting to try. Nothing too upscale, but not something that would be too casual. "How does 8 sound?"

"I love it there. I'll see you at 8."

“Bye, Jay.”

“Bye, Calum.” As he walks to his car, his phone buzzes yet again. This time a text from his artist, I’m being fucking replaced, I see. I can’t be too mad since it’s Jay. Calum laughs as he slides into his car. Maybe he is getting replaced; maybe he’s not. Calum’s not sure. He is sure that he needs to figure out if he can make reservations and what to wear for tonight.

[nabesthetics]

❣️dragoat

hell yeah we know what we're here for

Who is the little spoon?

You'd think that Alastor is a little spoon material, but… What do you call it when one tends to seize the other's arm or sleep on top of him, while the other is kind of a nightmare to sleep in one bed with because of all the tossing and turning? Because that's what's going on here, especially at first before Lucio gets used to actually sleeping in bed with someone. It gets better. Eventually.

Who sings in the shower?

Lucio, because of course he does.

Who plays pranks on the other?

Alastor was essentially "raised" by Asra and that is all you need to know, honestly. One day Lucio woke up to all of his shirts (temporarily) missing right sleeves instead of the left ones, and it was just the beginning.

(When Alastor teams up with Asra and Portia, literally noone is safe)

Who is the one who listens to pop music?

Modern AU Alastor is more into instrumental soundtrack-style music, so my bets are on Lucio.

Who brings the other a random cup of joe?

Alastor is more likely to do it for the sole reason that there's no way Lucio is giving the dragon coffee. We don't want to repeat the Incident.

Who picks the cheesy movies for date night?

Alastor, but lbr there's about a 30% chance they actually get through a movie on a date night without… interruptions.

Who is more likely to feed the other in public?

They're both doing it at about the same rate, partially because Lucio will not have it differently. He'll jump on any opportunity to treat his magician, but hey he's not about to miss out on food either.

Who gives the other random little compliments?

Honestly Lucio might even be overdoing it a little. When Alastor is initially having troubles taking some compliments especially ones targeted at his appearance, the goatman sees it as a reason to crank them up to 300%, kind of oblivious to the fact that self-esteem issues aren't fixed that easily.

Alastor isn't greedy with verbal affection either, but he leans more towards giving praise rather than random compliments.

Who is always stealing food from the other’s plate?

Neither do it often (why steal when they're both into feeding each other), but Lucio less so simply because taking anything from Alastor "immune to spices" Nauruan is quite a gamble.

Lucio learned that the hard way.

Who is more likely to let the other borrow their car?

It's more that Alastor is the one driving them home in Lucio's car after going out somewhere.

Alastor himself owns something like a pickup or a minivan and only drives it outside of the city or in an emergency. It's loaded with travel/archaeology equipment and covered in road dust most of the time. There's just no reason for Lucio (who prolly owns a few fancy cars) to borrow "that old monstrosity".

Who makes the list before they go grocery shopping?

Alastor does, sometimes. Even though Lucio definitely needs it more.

Who makes sure the other takes their meds when sick?

Al is the superior caretaker of the two, bless his little patient heart because sick Lucio is An Experience.

(It's a very rare occasion when Alastor gets sick, and when he does the medicine isn't exactly conventional.)

Who watches sports and has to teach the other the rules?

Alastor has 0 idea how most sports work, needs explanations to the rules, and is still confused about the point of many of them tbh.

Who pulls the other to their feet for a dance in the living room?

Lucio definitely pfffft

It doesn't take Alastor too long to learn dancing, he is definitely graceful and flexible enough for it, but he doesn't do it by himself on a whim. While Lucio… forget the living room — random dancing in the grocery stores because the song is a bop.

Who has to keep reminding the other to hurry or they’ll be late?

*distressed dragon noises because it's been 30 minutes and the dragon is rather punctual when it comes to events or meetings*

Who is the one most likely to get a tattoo with the other’s name?

Drunk Lucio (Alastor talks him out of it)

[roanniom]

Happy Friday Issa! Today I am thinking about Paterson, and what it would be like to end up on his bus one day by happenstance. It would be impossible not be smitten at first sight. I can't stop picturing the way his eyes would just bore into ours when he catches us staring in the rearview mirror. The blush that spreads over him would be just unreal. 😍🥺💜 Thanks so much for sharing nyour imagines with us!

Lovely Claire, as you know I’ve been excited to get to this one. Partly because I love Pat with all my heart and partly because I looked forward to bringing such a beautiful idea to life in that calm Paterson style. I hope you like this little story <3

Three Stops, Five Regulars, and You

Word Count: 2,152

Warnings: Really just sweetness, the slightest angst from ~yearning~

Paterson drives the same route every day. He knows the people who get on, where they board, and where they disembark. The sweet old lady who gets her groceries at the corner store on Tuesdays. The recent emigrant from Nigeria who sits in the front and practices English with the local florist as they both commute to different jobs in the same strip mall. The high school baseball player who acts rowdy in the back of the bus with his teammates until the teammates get off on Maple Street and he remains on for eight more stops, always moving to sit shyly with a girl Paterson has gathered to be the boy’s old English tutor.

But never you.

When Paterson opens his folding doors and you walk in, he is immediately struck by your newness. The way the planes of your face reflect no familiarity back onto him unsettles Paterson as you pass him by to take your seat a few rows down. He inhales the scent that wafts in your wake, trying to place it but, as with your features, he draws a blank. Freesia? Gardenia? Paterson blinks at the expanse of windshield before him in an attempt to ground himself in the here and now.

It’s a Friday afternoon, almost early evening.

He’s on 5th and Potomac.

Three more stops till he’s done with his shift.

Done to go home to a microwaved meal and a comfortable couch.

Five more regulars to get to their destination.

And you.

Paterson looks up then into the rearview mirror only to meet those unfamiliar eyes. Beautiful eyes, he registers somewhere in the back of his short-circuiting brain. Eyes that take him in through the mirror. Appraising him. He wonders what they see in him, these eyes that can’t possibly know him any more than his know you.

“Hey Pat, we outta gas or something, buddy?”

The good-natured tease comes from Ollie, the auto mechanic, sitting in his usual seat in row six. This does nothing to stop Paterson from jumping a foot into the air and muttering his apologies before clunking the bus into gear.

It takes Paterson several minutes of silent driving before he works up the courage to glance at the rearview mirror again. He argues with himself internally before he does so.

You’re probably not even looking anymore. No, it’s much more likely you’ve become engaged in polite conversation with another passenger or pulled out a book or lost yourself looking out the window, taking in the outside world with those beautiful eyes…

Or, less likely but much more anxiety-inducing, you could still be looking. Looking at the lanky bus driver with the goofy ears who stared like an idiot instead of doing his job. He kicks himself at the thought of the way he’d gaped at you. Openly and so out of character.

What he should have done was averted his eyes when you’d entered, waited a respectable amount of time, and then peered back a few times to catch a glimpse. He could have taken in the curve of your jaw, the arch of your brow, the turn of your nose, all without detection from the comfortable anonymity of the driver’s seat. Gone home and written a poem or two about the ethereal creature who’d gotten lost and found herself on his bus route, a sprite or a fairy who would disappear tomorrow like some Freesia-scented vapor, perhaps never really there to start.

But no. He’d looked. And you’d looked.

And now he looks again.

His eyes dart back to the road immediately and his pulse races.

You were looking.

Paterson takes a few deep breaths and minds a stop sign before he hazards a glance again.

Yes. Still looking.

But this time he notices the smile on your face. The lips he hadn’t noticed, being so far below your eyes as they were, your eyes which had been just about as far as he had gotten to this point. The smile is soft but amused. Your hand lifts up in a small wave and Paterson feels himself heat up all the way down to his sensible shoes. His ears burn and he brings his eyes back to the road by force of habit and in order to do his job of steering this bus full of people but for absolutely no other reason. Because now he has two different things that require his attention – your eyes and your lips. Both deserving of equal consideration.

When his eyes revisit the road he realizes the next stop is upon him. When the bus pulls to a halt and deflates down steadily to allow passengers to climb out, Pat counts the seconds with his heartbeat. Wondering if this is your stop. Knowing which stop it is for all other riders but you. Knowing Mr. McKinney will get off to see his nephew and that the kind goth boy whose name he doesn’t know is off to the library with music blaring in his ears. Paterson nods to each of them as they pass, but does not look up to see them, opting instead to stare straight ahead.

When his peripheral vision doesn’t show him your retreating figure Paterson looks up to find you still in your seat, this time sitting lower. More comfortable. But still looking. Still smiling.

Involuntarily, Paterson feels a smile spread across his own face. He closes the folding doors and shifts back into gear.

Two more stops and three more passengers.

And you.

As Paterson navigates his way into the middle lane to avoid construction, he tries to settle his racing thoughts. He’s confused by this reaction, mental, physical and otherwise. It’s not like he’s never had a pretty passenger before.

So why does your face look like nobody he’s ever seen but everything he’s ever looked for?

“What’s your favorite thing about being a bus driver?”

Paterson inhales sharply and he jerks his head around at the unfamiliar voice to see that you are now sitting in the seat directly behind him. Your smile larger than ever.

Paterson swallows thickly, searching for the first words best to say to you.

“Passengers shouldn’t move about while we’re in motion.”

Wrong words.

“So is it that? The authority?” you joke, your smile becoming more lopsided, Paterson’s thankful to be able to see. Even with you right behind him he can still see you in the rearview mirror.

“No! No I didn’t mean to…I mean it’s really not that big…we’re only going 30 –” Paterson’s stuttering is cut off by your laugh.

“Ok if not that then what is it?”

“Um, what is what?” Paterson asks, looking back up after yielding to a bicyclist.

“What’s your favorite thing about being a bus driver?”

“Oh.” Paterson looks back at the road.

He’s never really thought of it. Mainly because nobody had ever asked it before, so he hadn’t bothered to ask it of himself. But it only takes another second of thought before he has his answer.

“It’s a weird limbo.”

“Come again?” Judging by your expression this was clearly not an answer you’d anticipated.

“Being a bus driver you are part of people’s daily lives. You go with them to work, you take them home after a long day. You see them with their friends and family. Or alone.”

“I’m alone,” you point out with a nod. It’s a simple statement, as if corroborating his assessment. Paterson grins and nods.

“Exactly, you’re alone. It’s very personal, in a way. Being there for these moments in between where they are coming from and where they’re going.”

“Intimate?” you offer. Paterson feels his throat go dry as he nods again.

“Yes. Intimate.”

“But you called it limbo?”

“Well it might be intimate, but it’s from a distance. A bus driver is only a small part of someone’s day, but my passengers are my day.”

“Oh,” you exclaim, voice softer than before. “I guess I never thought about it that way.”

The next stop, the penultimate one, comes into view and Paterson eases to bus to halt. A single mother known for jogging around the park in the evenings bids Paterson good night and Ollie claps him on the back as he heads out for dinner with his kids. Upon their exit, Paterson’s eyes seek out yours in the mirror once more. Wondering again if this is the place where you get off.

You lean against the back of your chair. Still very much seated.

Still very much a passenger.

It is then, as Paterson closes the folding doors once more, that he realizes the rest of the bus is empty. This startles him, as usually there is one more regular on the bus for this last upcoming stop. A man, very quiet and not unlike himself. Though Paterson doesn’t know much about him, he’s always wondered just how similar they are. Wondered if the man who enters a residential complex across the street from this last stop also has an empty apartment waiting from him. A lukewarm meal and a cold bed.

Paterson spares a moment to wonder where the man is, feeling a tinge of hope burn through the usual pity – perhaps the man is not alone, wherever he is, and perhaps tonight his dinner will be hot.

The folding doors hiss as they close for the second to last time tonight and Paterson pulls back into traffic. A glance in the rearview mirror reminds him that, not only are you still there, but that the absence of his final regular means that you two are very much alone.

The thought makes blood pound in his ears and he finds his eyes darting between the road and the mirror, not wanting to miss a second of whatever you may do, whatever you may say.

And you don’t make him wait long.

“That man called you Pat earlier,” you say in that lilting voice. “Is your name Patrick?”

“Paterson.” He says it wearily, bracing himself for the inevitable exclamation sure to come about how his name couldn’t possibly be what he says it is because no, that’s the name of the town.

Instead he sees you nod in the mirror as if this is the most rational name he could have given. Of course his name is Paterson.

The silence that follows is heavy with a lot of things, chief among them the things he wishes he could bring himself to say. Questions mainly, ones to counter the questions you’ve lobbed at him. After a block passes he opts for a simple one.

“What do you like best about being a bus passenger?” The question is timid and he hates himself for it, but the sound of your laugh is an pleasantly unexpected reward.

“I like the bus drivers.”

Paterson laughs with you then.

“Now you’re making fun of me.”

“No, I’m not!” you say with mock offense. Paterson flexes his fingers on the steering wheel, starting to feel them tingle. Probably a symptom of a long day of driving.

Or a symptom of you.

“Ok maybe you’re not making fun of me, but there’s no way that’s your answer.”

“You’re right, maybe it’s not the bus drivers,” you say then, leaning forward to rest your chin on your arms as they fold on top of the ledge separating the first row from the driver’s seat. Paterson can practically hear your breath as you speak your next words. “Maybe I just like you.”

If Paterson hadn’t already been pulling up to the final stop he’s pretty sure he would have slammed on the breaks. When the bus eases into motionlessness, Paterson’s hand automatically opens the folding doors, something he probably wouldn’t have thought to do if the action wasn’t so tied to muscle memory at this point.

Paterson’s mind is reeling. He needs to ask you out, or at least as you your name.

But his tongue is tied and you’re standing up and reaching for your bag.

You step down the one step that brings you to the level of the driver’s seat and he gets another good look at you, eyes skittering up and down in a vain attempt to take in every detail incase this was both his first and last chance.

“Good night!” you say cheerily as you move to the door.

Paterson’s heart is sinking faster than the hydraulics on his bus when suddenly you turn around once more, almost as an after thought.

“Oh and Paterson? You were my day.”

And with that you step into the night.

Perhaps to continued tangibility.

Perhaps to vaporize into thin air.

He’s not sure which possibility scares him more.

Paterson allows himself to sit still for a few more moments, not bothering to close the folding doors so quickly this time. Allowing the cool air to flow in. Air that contains the remnants, and potential, of you.

~*~

Tagging some lovely people (please let me know if you’d like to be tagged or untagged in future work!) @mariesackler @direnightshade @safarigirlsp @sacklerscumrag @paper-in-ashes-fanfiction @historyandfandoms50 @clydesfavoritegirl @wayward-rose @hopeamarsu @thegreenmatt @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @finn-ray-nal-beads @fizzywoohoo @maybe-your-left @aliveandlonely @han-not-solo @morby @emeraldsiren20 @maryforyou @aloneandsleepless @jynzandtonic @renmaulxo

(AND PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU ARE GETTING NOTIFIED ABOUT THIS TAG, TUMBLR HAS BEEN WEIRD LATELY that is all, love you guys <3)

[sugar-petals]

Treats For You (M)

↳ PAIRING: yuzuru hanyu × reader

↳ PLOT: You tend to a nervous Yuzu the night before a skating competition.

↳ WORD COUNT: 9k | one shot | domestic au, smut

↳ WARNINGS ⚠️ pwp, dom/sub, feeding yuzu treats, pegging, some very wet oral (m giving), cum play, oh lord it gets graphic, fingering, crying, mommy kink, yuzu’s crazy back arch, rough sex, masochism, aftercare, some asthma talk

↳ CARO’S NOTE: inspired by this juicy gif. PS: since i usually post for other fandoms — if you’re unfamiliar with yuzu, visit this intro post. 

Just two minutes after you switch off the light, he starts fidgeting. 

Repeatedly, all while messing around with his pillow. Soon enough, the blanket you share becomes all disheveled. 

You turn your head towards the window to check. All as usual. The blinds are perfectly drawn to shut out the moonlight. Meanwhile, the humidifier infuses the air in gentle ten-minute intervals. Not even the heater is bumbling tonight. Yuzuru keeps on rustling beside you, still. Some of his plushies fall off the bed, one after the other.

Of course he can’t sleep. It’s daunting, no precaution ever helps. The blanket couldn’t be any more crumpled up at this point.

„I’m so nervous,“ he finally sits up another minute later, causing the duvet to lift. A little sigh follows.

Eventually, you turn in the sheets yourself, now facing him. Or rather, what you can vaguely make out as his crouching silhouette.

„Hey,“ you mumble from your left side of the bed. „You watched all of the performances from last month.“ You pat Yuzu’s pillow, hoping he would sink down on it again. „At least twice. Or more.“

God knows for how many hours he stretched in front of the TV on his spongy blue yoga mat, reviewing mountains of footage with a furrowed brow worthy of a restaurant critic.

Every jump and every turn, analyzed over and over. Down to the millimeter. Even the costume got its fair share of scorn. Too wide there, this detail on the collar could be different, that part gets in the way while doing spins.

„It’s all— I don’t know what I’m lacking these days.“

The silhouette doesn’t look like it’s headed to lie down again for the time being. You reach toward your bedstand’s squiggly designer lamp. After fumbling about in the dark, you find the bulky switch at its bottom. On goes the light again. Perhaps a bit too bright, both of you squint hard.

„It’s not like you’re dropping to second place anytime soon.“

Given how you thought you could call it a day before Yuzu started to fidget, maybe your voice is not fully resonant yet. It still carries a little unspoken ‚…right?‘ with it. 

As soon as you finish the sentence, you feel how he can pick up on it already. The humidifier dryly comments by puffing out a cloud of lavender steam.

„I don’t really know,“ Yuzu retorts twisting, going into a deep shrug. He is completely sunken now.

„Looks like a simple big hug won’t do, hm.“

Yuzuru ends up nodding. It’s more knowing than admitting. But you don’t like the sense of resignation that comes with it, at all. The problem goes a little deeper than just motivating him with the stats he ironically already knows, times better than you, even.

It’s been going on for the entire day. The last time he made such a grouchy face at his videos was around Christmas. Back then, he couldn’t quite get the jumps right at the start of his routine. But now? His scores are just fine. Not to mention the jumps.

„I didn’t think you were lacking,“ you say. „You just fell once during training.“

And that was because he was fooling around during a break, not in the serious exercises.

„Sorry for bothering you,“ he buries his face in the blanket, beginning to ruffle his hair all over the place. Frustrated Friday-evening-Yuzu always does that, but the energy doesn’t seem to go anywhere this time.

The murmur of his stomach isn’t hard to miss either. You lay your hand on Yuzu’s back.

„Is it because you didn’t eat?“

You wonder what he had for dinner.

Only more guilty stomach growling reaches you as a reply. Figures: He skipped it, and lunch, too. His breakfast was so frugal, you don’t even remember whether he had his milk or not. 

Yuzu was already pacing around in the living room at that point. Recalling the tricky parts of the upcoming choreography, treading his feet into the carpet, humming the steady rhythm of his skating program.

„Maybe I’m turning into a snickers diva,“ a muffled little comment emerges from where his chaotic hair sticks out from the duvet. At this point, his face is all buried there.

„I mean. If you allow me to baby you…“

Three minutes later. You rub your eyes, shift from leg to leg. The kitchen floor is as cold as ever so you regret not putting on socks. Meanwhile, there’s no problem raiding the fridge. 

You could go to the grocery store five times a day and buy everything Yuzu’s mouth waters over — it’d still be stacked to the top. Snacks, veggies, particular sports drinks in weird blue colors, Japanese pickled plums, gyoza left-overs, salad, various fizzy drinks, mostly lemonade.

It’s like that with any food. Out of sight, out of mind. He won’t bother getting up from the yoga mat if he’s fixated on the TV.

After making two distinct picks and checking whether the fridge door closes properly, then bustling at the sink with a towel, you trot back to the bedroom. Equipped. In the meantime, Yuzu has recollected his plushies from the floor, gently aligning them next to his pillow. 

They’re all in their strictly defined place again. You enter just the second after he’s arranged them in the usual half-circle order, centered around his favorite, all-time friendly-eyed Winnie Pooh bear.

„Will you look at that,“ you plant your little kitchen conquests onto the bed, rousing approval noises from Yuzuru who sparkles right at the box and plate you brought along. The grouchy face dissolves, curiosity takes its place. His food reactions will always be the cutest to you.

„Strawberries!“

„From the market. Wasn’t too expensive.“

Freshly doused in the sink, plump and very ripe.

„And rice cakes!“

Truth be told, there couldn’t be a bigger comfort food on his list and you shamelessly exploit the very fact.

„Every competition has a victory meal. Here, fruits first.“

After plopping down on the mattress yourself, you pick up one, then two strawberries. Immediately, Yuzu’s little upturned mouth opens wide as if a tiger baby was yawning. 

He chews more eagerly than you thought. If you pass him pretzel sticks while he reviews things on the TV, he barely eats one or two of them.

„I like these,“ he swallows, prying for the next fruit in your hand already. „Sweet!“

„Tastes best with cake,“ you rearrange your sitting position, making sure to park your cold feet next to Yuzuru’s very warm ones. His toes are readily brushing against yours, Yuzuru perhaps not even noticing they do. He’s too fixated on the little cakes. In all things he does— focus incarnate. He can’t help it.

„Yes, I wanna try!“

You rummage in the packaging you brought along, draw forth a first treat. A second one you set aside on the plate. Tiger baby opens his mouth even wider, in goes the first chunk of the rich delicacy. Lord have mercy on his stomach, it’s 11:15 PM. But what’s normal to him, anyways.

Ten more minutes pass. After the strawberry box is two thirds empty and three juicy rice cakes have embarked on their last journey, Yuzu looks a lot more content than before, even if his bedhead arguably makes him look like a mad scientist. Junior professor Yuzuru Hanyu, escapee from his genius lab that exploded in a blaze of smoke. 

You take it as your task to brush the outlaw strands back into their place with your fingers after pulling out a wet wipe — those with the way too astringent citrus flavor— from your bedstand, cleaning your hands off the rice. It’s not like your hands aren’t sticky on the regular.

To your satisfaction, Yuzu looks like a swaying cat, nestled into his blanket. With no more stomach growling audible, gladly. You put the plate on the bedside table, lean forward to kiss his belly, and shoot him a fracture of an ambiguous gaze.

„So… Fancy getting even more stuffed?“

„Sure! Is it a surprise?“ Yuzu looks around, presumably searching for more food you brought along.

The pure soul.

„Well, we already had dessert.“

„Oh, right! But, what’s the food, then?“

A little pause follows. Yuzuru couldn’t look any more thrilled. You decide to go with it.

„You’re too innocent,“ you lower down your pants by an inch, thumbs demonstratively hooked into the hem. You raise your eyebrows into a question that he cannot miss. „If you want. You might wanna grab your spray first, though.“

Only the last part fully registers in Yuzuru’s expression that finally goes from curious to… sheepish. He caught on.

Asthma spray at 11:30 PM is a cue he’s gotten familiar with over the last four months. Not in a million years did he think he’d ever have to use it late at night. Whatever decision process is rattling through Yuzu’s brain right now, it’s a fast one, though.

„Ha— okay!“

„Alright, Yuzu.“

„Just once second!“

Food round number two, it is. You kick off your pants and underwear but make sure they don’t land any place where plushies are. Yuzu is already busy at the other end of the room, visibly at work with shaky hands, browsing the cupboard with meds next to the window.

Now that he’s double nervous, you curse your idea, but remind yourself of the last late-evening time Yuzu had his head between your legs. ‚I dunno, I was just concentrated‘ are the words that stuck with you after asking him how on earth he kept his breath for what felt like 45 seconds. 

Whatever masochist devil has been driving him, it gave your boyfriend skills you never even knew were possible to have out of absolute nowhere. Not to mention how easily it distracted him from anything else in the world.

Maybe that focus is an effect easy to replicate, you think. Anything that can take his mind off the competition tomorrow is worth trying.

Carefully, you move over to the right side of the bed. Then, recline on Yuzu’s pillow — on his explicit wish two months ago, you meticulously keep that tradition — and feel surrounded by plushies already. 

Back then, Yuzu insisted that he shouldn’t be the only one watching out for you when you’re having sex. And that the pillow just smells really good of your hair afterwards. So there you lay, feeling all kinds of horny. Given that Yuzu is already returning to the bed, swiping his hair off his forehead. Looking very refreshed, letting his breath play. Sexy.

And there it goes already. The I dunno, I was just concentrated gaze. You arrange your legs wide enough for Yuzu to settle in the middle, him still sitting upright. His hands are still shaky when they reach around your outer thigh, but his eyes don’t lie to you in the very least.

„Your breath alright?“

A little nod, but he doesn’t heed the question for any longer. There’s gladly nothing that his lung doctor can’t figure out. You count on that, but asking doesn’t hurt.

Meanwhile, Yuzu’s eager eyes are already drawn downwards. Getting bigger and bigger. The surprise he had anticipated in fact now dances over his face, flighty and polite, but nonetheless apparent to you. He’s smiling, and it looks shy in the light of the bedstand lamp.

„I, ah…“

It’s as if he hasn’t seen you naked before, every time. For whatever reason, Yuzu always reverts to virgin mode with his first glance. You admit it’s flattering and amusing alike, but also — leaves you with Hitchcock level suspense. 

Yuzuru has proven himself to be an expert in summoning a beginner’s zeal, an almost childlikeness. That keeps you on your toes and promises an intensity that routine and pragmatic energy management could never give you.

After letting his eyes linger a little more, his lips become visibly impatient. He’s already licking them. You’d promised food, and he takes it seriously. That Yuzu’s fingers stroke rather weirdly at your thighs does not escape your attention either. They’re practicing.

„Help yourself, touch.“

The stroking ceases. Yuzu doesn’t hesitate to reach down with his left. How he touches you sends a row of tingles down your legs. His fingertips are amazingly dainty and soft. He explores. Then, soon keeps on caressing about, leans his head forward, all still from his seated position. It doesn’t take too long until he goes straight to getting you off with his right hand.

„This is, wow,“ he mumbles to himself, already immersed in rubbing your clit. Going in circles, taking his time. Alternating between index and thumb.

„Yeah. That’s the spot,“ you shift in the pillow, eventually finding a good position to relax. You exhale, focus on his hand.

„So smooth,“ Yuzu traces his joining left hand up and down your labia.

„Maybe someone wants a taste?“

You were right that he would forget practically anything else. The yoga mat worry brow is blown off his face. Substituted by— appetite.

„Not just maybe, actually.“

Spreading your legs a little more is invitation enough to have Yuzuru lower his head onto your pubic bone, tongue already searching for its favorite place. Your fingers gently interlace in his hair as soon as he starts sucking. Keeping his bangs out of his eyes.

How unafraid to bury his face he is you soon get to witness. You can feel the bridge of his nose glide from lip to lip, and the feathery light brush of his lashes at the base of your inner thighs. 

Yuzu’s tongue has always been cheeky, but today, it feels particularly adventurous and slippery. He can’t help but fumble about with his hands simultaneously. Beginner’s zeal, you knew it’d come.

The bucking of your hips comes too naturally to be controlled. Nor does Yuzuru know just how to hold his head back from thrusting. This little shit. Whatever is in those rice cakes, it made him a new level of keen. Soon enough, his tongue has riled you up plenty, and his focused eyes have become entirely monotone. Only preoccupied with one thing and one thing alone. 

Just how much he dedicates his attention has to be a thing for the books. You feel like blowing up and moaning like crazy at this point, but manage to at least puff out. He knows you’re way too close. There’s a little smile you feel in the way he eats you.

„So that mouth gets a cum filling,“ you twist your fingers out of Yuzu’s wild hair. It’s all tangled again. The return of the mad professor. He has all the space in the world to bop his head as much as he wants now. One, two, three plushies fall over and tumble around the mattress. He doesn’t notice.

The warmth between your legs has been growing ceaselessly. Now, ready to brim. With Yuzu’s agile tongue slipping back and forth over your clit in erratic intervals, you feel like losing your mind with every lick. The way his lips excite you gives off the lewdest sucking noises. All wet, and resolute like a chess player not to drop you off that high. 

He keeps his laps consistent, leans in more, and eventually— tips you off the edge with a fast sequence of letting his tongue dip under the hood of your clit. And letting it stay there, all until your legs start twitching. You groan out.

Yuzu gets a big. Fat. Cum filling indeed.

Your breath goes short, you grab his shoulders. Growling, cursing. Trying to ride the wave, but the contractions catch you harder than you thought. You can practically feel how much you ooze out and ruin his face. 

Bratty he is, Yuzuru forms his mouth all kissy and pecks your clit through every throb. Until the shockwaves subside, letting your shaking thighs off the hook eventually.

Too fucking intense. The surge of pleasure keeps on making your mind hazy long after your orgasm is over. To add fuel to the fire, Yuzuru rubs his belly, as if he just had two happy meals for the price of one.

Pulling off, his face is all bright and slobbery in its remaining smile. His lips are cum-glazed, and more than just plain sweat trickles down his nose. Nothing better than a facial right in front of twenty plushies. Who knew Winnie the Pooh himself would ever be eye witness to Yuzu’s sporty head game. 

Friendly bear he is, it doesn’t seem to bother him. From unsuspecting comfort teddy on Yuzu’s lap 23/7 to live-action porn audience. First row, no popcorn though, but HD sound quality and claims to free spit. The guy is living his absolute best life, isn’t he.

„You… growling. That was pretty hot,“ Yuzuru says. His jaw is hanging all loose and most of his speech is slurred. Yuzu looks all satiated. In your mind, you pat yourself on your own shoulder. Boyfriend corruption: almost complete.

„Like being spoiled? I want you to clean that up.“

Yuzu squeaks out giddy in reply. A moment later, he goes back to lean down again, swallowing and licking up cum from your drenched, swollen lips. His slurping noises are indulgent, wet, and desperately slutty. He succeeds in cleaning you up, but keeps on messing up himself even more. Yuzuru delights in rubbing his whole face into your dripping pussy until his eyebrows are sticky, his lids and cheeks are damp, and you feel capable to get up from the pillow.

Despite not being underneath the blanket, you notice that your feet aren’t that cold anymore.

He sits on the bed like a mermaid, huddled close to you. Normally, he would visibly sort his thoughts like that, but now, all he does is blink and nuzzle up against you with his forehead. 

Settling, Yuzuru doesn’t seem to know where to put his hands and you take it as a chance to pepper them with kisses. The back of the hand, the palms, the wrists. It calms you, and it calms him.

You feel entirely drenched, refreshed and relaxed at once. How Yuzuru cuddles against your legs makes your heart warm, and the moment is blissful.

One lavender steam cloud later, you feel like moving again. Maybe there are two restless people in this relationship. The thought of it is funny.

„We could go on a little more,“ eventually, you pat his head. „With something different if you want.“

„Do you still have energy?“ he asks. His breath is somewhat slowing already. It feels hot against your leg.

„More than before, actually.“

He sits up. Looks like you surprised him again. Little does Yuzu know how much he shakes you up.

„Really?“

You nod, twirling at his bangs now.

„I have an idea. So… you remember what’s been waiting in a box for a month.“

You can tell he knows exactly what you mean. No doubt he didn’t take very long to recall it, either. That tells you something.

„Can we use it?“

That answer was fast.

„It’s what I’ve been thinking.“

„We’ve been putting this off but I’m still curious.“

And your guess was correct. It’s definitely been on his mind.

„Yeah, you’re right.“

Promptly, you direct your eyes to the bedroom cupboard to your far left. The one containing various kinds of skating blades in slender packagings, tracksuits in dark colors, fan presents, and mail orders. Among them, a larger jet black box—

That neither Yuzu nor you dared to open given it was a product of a reckless button click at 2 PM.

Admittedly, after Yuzu passed you a way too expensive bottle of sake that he got for his birthday. Since he’s allergic to alcohol, somebody thought she could give it a sure try instead. Pouring $200 into the sink would have been the better option.

Said black box soon sits between the two of you, wide open to reveal the truth of what sake can do.

„Oh man. What have I done.“

That button click comes back to bite you big time.

„This looks, I think, realistic—?“

At least on the surface.

Of course, you drunk fool had to order the ‚sculpted, real-life imitation‘ version. You couldn’t be any more embarrassed. No more alcohol in this flat, that’s for sure. What else to do but take it in stride now that the box is already open, though.

„I uh, think so. At least with the veins.“

„It’s… it is really big.“

At least three times Yuzu’s flaccid size if you don’t hallucinate right now.

„I don’t know how I’m not gonna tear you apart. How many inches are these, 12? My drunk self is too ambitious.“

Maybe you shouldn’t have used that word and said ‚reckless‘ instead. Because ambition surely and habitually triggers a prancing and posing Shia LaBeouf shouting ‚do it!‘ in Yuzuru’s athlete brain. You can see it in his eyes and already regret thinking out loud.

„We can still try.“

„If that’s a good idea or not we will probably see,“ you begin to inspect the contents one by one up close. „I think I bought a weapon.“

„Now I know why they call guns a strap,“ Yuzuru equally peaks over the edge of the box, looking like his future just flashed before his eyes.

„Next time I pass the sake to your coaches or something,“ you end up pulling out the red harness kit that glaringly lays on top of the contents. All looking very adjustable indeed. „That’s what my midnight fantasy seems to look like.“

„Uh—huh!“

Yuzu snakes his hand into the box himself now. Pulling out a transparent, orange-pink 13 oz bottle with a bubbly-looking fluid inside. Gaudy stuff, but a generous amount.

„Mister Lube. My new best friend,“ he says, laying the bottle aside and then pulling off his black PJ shirt. Although he strips quite leisurely, you can tell that Yuzuru is a little tense in his torso. That you will attend to in a minute, you think. But beforehand, you let your eyes roam for something else.

„They probably have something to clean it with in there as well. Let me see.“

You find that even if you might have ordered all this pretty tipsy, the toy set does have its quality. Just before you want to ask Yuzuru to warm up, he visibly ponders, then cleans his pajamas off the bed to make space for a little area.

„If you don’t mind, I stretch my muscles,“ Yuzuru puts aside a couple of plushies, too, but keeps Pooh close, assuming his typical pre-training stances.

He knows himself. That’s good.

„Tell me if you need help for the thigh stretching.“

In the meantime, you ease into the red kit and arrange the box contents on the bed. There seem to be fifteen things going on at once. If this would be public in the slightest, you believe the two of you must look like a bunch of eccentrics to anybody who’d watch you.

Ten minutes later, Yuzuru might just be in Olympic shape, has downed almost half a liter of spring water in one go. You know that he could probably deliver a quintuple jump on the spot if he wanted. The strap-on is all assembled, clean, and you have stored away the practically empty box of sake sinnery.

„I’ll skate cross-eyed and cross-legged tomorrow,“ Yuzu stares right at your crotch, face buried in his palms. Only his eyes peek through the fingers. „Godspeed to my ass.“

You sure as hell won’t disagree. This strap is a threat.

„I don’t know why I had to order supersize out of all possible things. You need a prayer circle after this. Where’s Mister Lube?“

„Here, over here,“ Yuzuru passes over the bottle, shaking it.

„I’ll relax you as good as I can, okay. Before I get arrested for possession of weapons without a license.“

And annihilating Yuzu’s insides with that XXL dick that he sure as hell doesn’t just want halfway in. Lord have mercy. You can only shake your head at yourself for buying this.

„Honestly though. Does it really fit in?“

Yuzu leans his face toward your hip, now on all fours, taking the sight in. He still can’t believe his eyes.

„We’ll see. Let your body decide, not your pride okay,“ you poke the tip of the strap-on into his left cheek. Hoping that it takes away some of the tension, at least. „And you can still tap the mattress.“

„Okay. Tap the mattress.“

He nods quite avidly. Same protocol as always. No spoken safewords, only something that Yuzu can make use of with his reflexes. Speech? Nothing you can both count on as soon as horniness kicks in. 

You tried that for the first two weeks and quickly settled for tapping instead. Especially because Yuzu likes to have fingers in his mouth every so often.

„I mean. You just did like five splits, didn’t you. Warm-ups always help. If your ankle doesn’t fall off?“

That mini workout was more than just impressive, in fact. And still, you eye Yuzuru’s notoriously injured foot. The slim little fella has a long history of recovery behind him.

„The ankle is decent, the usual stuff.“

„I wish we had a smaller toy to start out with,“ you scratch your head. That might be the one thing that’s been missing from the box. „We still have Mister Lube, anyway. Watch this,“ you pick up the orange bottle, flipping the cap open. „It’s actually scented! Worth ruining the bed if you ask me.“

On goes the fluid, you rub it all across the length of the dildo. Must be cherry flavor or something. Yuzuru sure makes big eyes.

„I knew I could count on Mister Lube.“

„Yeah, we use lots. And I’ll be very gentle.“

The cherry scent is gladly much less tacky than the bottle itself, not too artificial-smelling either. You squeeze out a second load and distribute it over the strap-on just to be sure. Yuzuru’s breath goes faster.

„Can I ask something beforehand?“

„Go right ahead.“

„I wanna suck first if you…“

Who knew. The lube probably made his mouth water.

Being honest, you think that it might be a good idea to get this going. Better than blowing his pretty back out right away and making a mistake, even if he is much less tense now.

„I don’t mind, Yuzu. You already have some chapstick on, right? Here.“

You level your hips to line up with his mouth more easily. You can tell that Yuzuru, after some heavy blinking, eventually braces himself. There’s nothing more telling than his tunnel vision plastered all over his face. His eyes, lids heavy, are hypnotized and seem darker. Yuzu’s bedroom gaze is the best in the world.

„Okay, I’ll start.“

A first kittenish lick. A second. A third. Then, brave lips — enclosing the tip. He audibly nips and swallows.

A few more licks, and repeat. Mister Lube seems to taste pretty good. You bless the shady company that manufactures the black box of sin for once. 

You let Yuzu explore, pump his hand around the shaft, lick from all directions he fancies. Compared to his wrist, the dildo doesn’t really fall short in diameter, but with Yuzu’s face up close you are relieved it’s not a complete David versus Goliath match. 

Soon enough, he musters the courage to open his mouth a little wider, cramming a bit more in than just the tip. You can’t deny you’re getting turned on again with the way he slurps and hums around your dick. With the minutes, he becomes bolder, moving his head.

Even if the lube gathers at his chin and seeps down to the bed, he keeps on sucking, now with a first pearl of sweat lingering on his forehead already. You’d never think it’d make him break a sweat. To be fair, he just did fifty jumping jacks in the warm-up.

„Want me to move?“

Two nods. You glide in, let your hips do the work how they want to. You don’t trust your online shopping choices, but your tempo, at least. Yuzuru is making all choked up noises trying to gobble up all the girth he gets, his fingers entangled in your harness. It keeps him in a steady place.

You can work from that, angle a few superficial thrusts into his mouth to get the saliva flowing. The blotch on your bed is already pretty nasty. The slow pace is apt enough to fill Yuzu’s mouth with spit bubbles that begin to foam out bit by bit.

After two more minutes of light back and forth, Yuzuru pulls off to speak.

„Please do it stronger. I don’t mind being hoarse.“

Not a second later, all he does is slurp up a very dripping shaft again. With difficulty jamming it in past the first few inches, but determined, anyway. You didn’t expect anything else.

Yuzu’s lips and eyes are all glossy by now. The portion of lube-infused spit has accumulated at his jaw already, soon to travel down to his throat. 

Stronger, he says. Why not.

„Okay, get ready.“

„M—hm!“

An abrasive jab follows a shallow one. If it wasn’t for the lube, your dick would scrape right down his upper throat. But this way, the first dip goes in with sufficient slip and slide, not leaving Yuzu with too much dick in his neck for long. All your strap-on does is bounce right back.

What you do hear is Yuzu’s gag reflex… claiming its rights. Still understated, but nevertheless there. After three more thrusts, you decide to stay about halfway balls deep, watching Yuzuru squirm, even try to shove in about an inch more by pressing his head forward. His breath is clean and deep through his nose. You put a checkmark on the my-boyfriend-has-asthma list in your mind.

„You look good with a dick in your mouth.“

What is supposedly a ‚thanks‘ ends up as gargling and choking. Yuzuru starts getting wet eyes at this point. Even a little bow of his head is something that doesn’t slip past your attention. Mannered guy, isn’t he. 

That praise makes him do the horniest noises is also something that you make a memo of. Along with seeing how it’s rendering him all aroused. You’ve seen those neck veins and red chin spots come out plenty of times to know.

A couple more thrusts are not a bad option, you decide. Although it seems that Yuzuru had the idea to hollow out his cheeks that very moment. The vacuum first makes your cock plunge in a little too fast than intended, then naturally pulls Yuzu’s head forward once you move your hips back again. 

It’s why the second thrust catches him off guard, flattening his lips and making your dick slide into his throat with air going in. Yuzu ends up choking hopelessly. It doesn’t look like he’s retreating his head in the very least, however.

Instead, you feel his hands grab at your either hip to secure himself in place. A glance from above, slightly angled sideward, shows you just how hard and throbbing Yuzu’s own dick is, tipping against his stomach. 

Once again, you make an impressed-my-dear face that he doesn’t overlook. His cheeks go hollow again and he keeps up the indulgent speed. Increasingly getting rougher and more pain-craving. Messier. Desperate. 

Yuzu opens his mouth wider not to have his teeth get in the way. It’s serious business now. His throat makes the most disgusting, grunting noises. Oh. Shit. Yuzu’s greed and sloppy lips make your body burn up. Soreness is the very least he’s headed for.

„Wow, Yuzu. Wow.“

It’s not something you didn’t know already. This man is without a singular doubt a lunatic. You whisper more praises to him, your hands grabbing hold of his head to sustain the movement rhythmically. 

Yuzu’s gag reflex has proven to only rebel every other thrust so you can pound away, at that time already giving up even the mattress that must be sopping wet to its core with Yuzuru drooling all over it. Too late for a towel altogether but fuck it.

Yuzu takes the choking well. He’s leaking spit all over, surrenders to your hands. Even if he doesn’t manage to deepthroat the entire length of the dick, he manages an awful lot of inches. By now, he’s gotten the hang of not letting too much air in. All while relaxing his muscles. 

Beautiful hums, chokes, little whines. Too bad your phone isn’t close by. Recording this has to be your very next bucket list entry. You’re glad he asked about this.

You go on thrusting for a few more times until you feel your hips going tired. Once his nose starts getting all runny, you naturally slow down even more. Eventually, you help Yuzuru pull his head off. His lips are all puffy.

„B—woah,“ it’s all he can moan and splurt out, and you help him wipe the glob of saliva and snot from his chin with your sleeve. 

Your pajama shirt might be ruined, but not as much as Yuzu’s tonsils. Who knows just how many times you were deep and fast enough to make them throb from all that friction. Seven, eight times? His food for tomorrow can be a light soup at best. Not even you were as sore after riding and sucking every last drop out of his dick last Monday. 

You’re glad he has the rice cakes going through his system right now. Poor onlooker Winnie the Pooh is probably traumatized by now. There’s only so much crazy dicksucking a bear can handle watching. And still, he gazes at the two of you— in good spirits as ever, cheeks big and bright. In a way, he looks like Yuzu in this very moment.

„How you like it?,“ you softly caress his pinkish lips. „I need to know how many stars to leave on the website.“

It takes a few moments until he can form words again. His speech is fast. He’s still staring at the dildo.

„It was in so deep and, and on my tongue. The dick veins, I could feel them. They were like, like, it was massaging my lips. And I almost thought I could swallow it.“

You raise your brows. Lord knows how deep your cock was inside his brain, but he still picks these things up.

„Attention to detail. Nice.“

Maybe 4.5 stars are a fair deal. At least for throat fucking. The rest — remains to be seen.

„Did I do well?“

His eyes widen. The question is genuine. It’s not something you’d think he would ask. Whenever he trained, he would always rely on his own judgment.

„Ask yourself first, you were the one feeling it.“

That’s not the answer he expected, and he ends up getting red cheeks.

„I liked it,“ he stammers. „Was really hot.“

„It’s what I saw, too. Good job, babe.“

He’s blushing even more now.

„Ah— I think I tried my best.“

You smile and cup his slobbery face. So you’ve taken his throat virginity in the most spit-heavy way possible. He looks cuter than ever.

„Listen. You’re a champ. If I could, I would cum deep inside of you.“

„I think, that would be romantic,“ his wet lips break into an upbeat smile. Yuzu’s eyes get all crinkly.

„You bet.“

A big doting kiss for Yuzu’s forehead is the only thing your brain can conjure up at this point, so you briefly lean down to do it. Maybe Shia LaBeouf is not just exclusively at home in Yuzu’s imagination. 

What you have to admit is that Yuzu’s overflowing athlete’s spirit has easily taken over your hips. You didn’t think you could move properly for that long. Maybe you still have some energy reservoirs left.

„And, and now?“

„I can stuff you with more dick. Up to you. Mister Lube didn’t run out yet. And if Pooh still likes watching.“

By instinct, Yuzuru’s hands snake behind his back to grip his ass, stroking what he knows is your delightful next target. You can tell by his eyes that there are a thousand scenarios going through his head.

„Pooh likes this… very much. He’s never seen something like that before. I think he is curious.“

It doesn’t take a Sherlock’s mind for you to know that he means— himself.

„I mean. I was surprised. If that monster fits into your little throat,“ you add, „anything is possible.“

That’s the final straw.

„I’ll do it,“ he says, moments later on all fours, face lowered and then rested sidewards on the bed, spreading his ass cheeks. Decision making when it comes to strap stuff is Yuzu’s forte, you jot that down in your invisible sex life journal. Not one bit of hesitation. By the looks of it, a very twitching entrance is waiting for you.

Testing period is over.

„Alright. I got something to drive home.“

Now that you think of it. If his ass is already only half as naughty as his mouth, you’ll need the help of a higher power.

„Shit. I think, it relaxes.“

At the expense of your mattress and blanket getting even more greasy with lube, you ease in the tip after massaging it into his sphincter. Yuzu’s ass still has to deal with that new sensation given how his leg muscles are going all bonkers. But indeed he’s grown receptive.

„Comfy like that?“

„B—big…“

„Attention, just a little tweak before I go on. Here.“

You softly press down on his spine with your palm entirely flat, and his back obliges immediately. His arch is leaving you breathless. 

Yuzu’s head and chest are snug and soft against the bed while his ass is far, far up. He smiles seeing you venerate his back, he didn’t miss your reaction in the least. No surprise a third of your cock gets sucked into his ass just moments later. It caught you off guard.

Judging by Yuzu’s little yelp and his eyes rolling back, the way you went right into him has found pleasure. The bedposts creak a little because Yuzuru’s legs are shivering. As is his voice.

„I love it, I lo-, please, my, my ass!“

„Can I move?“

„Yes, please!“

The arch did the trick. You love your boyfriend. What follows is a slowly plunging series of rewards, ten, eleven times, pulling at his gripping asshole until it surrenders into going loose. Yuzuru has almost accommodated a third of the length you’re engraving into his ass. You’ll definitely keep using that brand of lube.

„Here, babe. I got a present for your prostate.“

Yuzu is making your favorite lawless face when you hit the spot, controlling the base of the dildo with two your fingers going around it like a cock ring. He looks as if someone just handed him a trophy too big to carry. From his perineum, a thread of lube comes dripping down with a squelching noise. The poor sheets. It’s another virginity taken.

In the meantime, Yuzu grabs hold of the duvet with unsteady hands. His entire torso is nothing but a shaky mess. So erratic. And sweaty. And docile. And beautiful. You want to award him plenty, your little present from above, the jittery boy underneath you.

Pounding away and making him grit his teeth is worth heading for a mean cramp, you don’t care. Watching how your cock is plowing in and out of him at jerky angles with the absolute lewdest, bubbling noises recompensates for anything. 

Yuzu’s rolling eyes have become spaced out and teary, making him look like a crying saint about to enter the golden gates of heaven. Who knew angels had black hair.

With every stroke, his ass becomes every bit accepting to the point of almost glaring open to let you thrust in. Thank God. You compliment yourself on not falling short of the arguably lofty promise to relax him. Moaning Yuzu’s little ass is swallowing it all. 

By the time, his rectum is going hollow and sticky, welcoming every move of yours by giving you ample right of passage. During some thrusts, you don’t even see his sphincter hold on to the dildo at all. His ass is almost as dilated as his loose mouth itself. Your thrusts are working on their own again at this point. What instinct is propelling you, who knows. 

You love the sight and the happy squeals. You tease him with more speed. Not without effect, your hips lunge and aim deep all the more. You penetrate him far enough to start an excavation for ancient relics next Monday. With the tempo increasing, so does the chesty volume in his voice.

„It’s,“ he cries out, „in my belly! Ah! Ah, shit! Shit...“

You see Yuzu let go of the duvet with his left hand. It promptly darts way down to his abdomen where his fingers grope around.

„I can feel it,“ he whines, „It’s rubbing there, it’s a big bump!“

You sure won’t deprive your own hand from that sensation and reach right down, too. Which means leaning forward— and stuffing your strap even harder into his guts. Yuzu gasps out loud. Both your hands meet fondling about, cupping the sensitive area in search for the imprint of the dildo.

What Yuzu says is not understated. His slender little belly is all bulged out in the bottom quarter. Since he’s so thin, it’s almost scary how much your cock just dents him out and twists around.

„Jesus, Yuzu,“ you let your hand roam next to his, even lightly squeezing the area. It’s what really riles him.

What you thought was the maximum for him to take turns out to be nothing but a mere start. Yuzu is so obsessed to feel the bulge more that he starts bucking his ass onto your cock with the most unbridled voice cracks.

You can’t lie. His moans make your jaw drop. His usually so controlled body on the ice is now wrecking and writhing itself to get more dick. 

A thin line of sweat goes on a pilgrimage down his spine already. He impales himself more, gyrates his hips more, whines out more. You wonder how he keeps it together and doesn’t spritz all his cum over the bed and the floor tiles.

It’s the sheer force of will. Always hungry for the next level. You can’t help but admire how enduring he is. And that’s just the first time.

Yuzu’s feet have become agitated on the sheets, responding to every thrust by dangling and swishing around. Yesterday, his right ankle was all stiff and even a bit swollen. Now, it’s moving all over the place. Looks like doggy style is putting all the tension off the ligaments. It’s something else you take deliberate note of.

After five more thrusts and hearing his whimpers getting all drawn-out, eventually, you retreat for a break, letting your cock rest on his left ass cheek. Yuzu inhales, gathering himself. He looks at you with big, glazed bambi eyes. Maybe even a bit incredulous.

„Am I, am I gaping?“

You don’t have to check twice to know.

„All lose. If you knew how far I can see inside of you. Hole new world.“

„Y/N!“

He can’t hold eye contact now.

„Naughty, huh. But I like what I see.“

Goddamn great ass. You firmly smack Yuzu squarely across his right butt cheek. He twitches, clenches, bites his lips more. They tremble.

„Ah! You tease!“

„Want me to put it in again?“

Wild nodding. Looks like Yuzu’s usual voracity on the ice does an easy, albeit not entirely seamless transfer to bed, too. He still ogles what is about to stretch him out again with due respect. He still can’t fathom something this massive was inside of him, you can tell.

Once you start moving again, you notice his feet and thigh muscles violently jerking. His prostate has gotten all sensitive. Probably all spongy and large by now.

You decide to angle yourself differently and take a deep breath. Impossible to draw this out any longer. From the vicinity of Yuzu’s pillow, you grasp the Winnie Pooh plush toy and maneuver it into his awaiting embrace. He holds it tight in an instant.

With impatient hands, you fumble around the bed for the lube bottle until you find it next to his right foot. Two, three, four generous squeezes onto his asshole, not very accurate at all. Several fine, oily traces end up trickling down his inner thighs. You don’t even bother closing the bottle properly anymore. Too much adrenaline.

„Grab those sheets and Pooh, Yuzu, grab hard.“

„I got it!“

„Time I fuck you up. If you’re ready?“

„Yes, make me cum, make me cum! Please break my ass,“ he’s whimpering. So badly. „I want it! I want it all inside.“

Mister Lube has a last job to handle.

Yuzu has crammed three fingers into his mouth once you get a hold of his hair and deliver the last hard movements. He takes the blows all babbling and sucking himself off. How his ass is not completely falling apart by now is a miracle of nature. Or maybe, just the blessing of his daily training.

The room is heavy with the scent of sweat and cherries. He’s loosened his core so much that sliding in is not a question of you avoiding a cramp anymore, but technique. You feel focused to zero in and not miss the sweet, tender spot. It makes him mewl the first time you push your dick tip right into it. 

The second time, his eyes get big and fluttering.

„Please. Please, hurt me,“ he salivates, then eventually, grabs his plush harder. „Hurt me bad. I’m really begging you.“

Fast to oblige, you claw your hands around his waist and pull his body backwards. The ten nails digging into him are only the last needed set-up. The last jab comes in crisp, landing a severe and punctuated shock. Yuzu’s ass smacks up hard at your loins. The pain quickly snakes right up his spine and leaves his face contorted.

„Oh fuck…!“

Small, shaking Yuzu cums like fifty fireworks going off at once. Not even releasing his screams into the duvet really helps to mute out the heaviness of the first waves. You keep your cock right in place and let it buffer into his prostate at will. 

Yuzu’s legs kick and tangle under you like pasta in boiling water. He cries and groans and curses, and cries out even more. You can see his entire back muscles at work now, going like clockwork. His moans each sound so ecstatic, it registers as a different language to you. He spirals far into his orgasm, sobbing, and it looks beautiful.

„Amazing, Yuzu.“

His semen lands all over his sternum and the sheets, shooting out in several bursts, one more pumping than the other. It’s almost as if all that strawberry juice converted nicely into a blotchy, white fluid. 

His dick is still tensing up completely sensitive. Releasing cum, up until his legs stop going all over the place. Yuzu doesn’t let the sperm cool for twenty seconds that he already reaches down to pick it up, jerking his cock a last dozen times, only to bring to his mouth what his fingers collected. He sucks up all of it.

„Delicious, baby?“

„M—hm!“

„So nicely milked.“

His relished expression. You imagine that this must have been how the gods first tasted nectar.

While he licks away, Yuzu goes limp head to toe with you carefully pulling out your dick. Inch by inch. Not pulling. Only gliding.

Once you’ve removed the tip, he collapses into a sniffing, giggly puddle of serotonin. Crying, even when you lend him both your hands to lay his face into.

He’s so gorgeous. 

Breathing hard, sweaty, drooling and messed up. His body is so steamy and loose, splayed out all the way before you. His entrance has turned all pink so beautifully. Hot. As. Fuck.

Most psychologists would envy you for being able to gaze this far into Yuzuru Hanyu’s innermost clenching being. How his ass is going to close until tomorrow’s competition, you don’t know. 

Time to pray he won’t digest these savory cakes too fast. Then again, he didn’t eat properly at all. His body is probably soaking up all the fruit and rice in their entirety. 

You pat his lower back gently, making sure to lay him down into a sleeping position already. Pooh is right by his side. Yuzu’s legs are still so dangly.

He’s really let go completely. You’ve not fucked his ass, but his soul.

You want to thank him for trusting you so much. Beside the shady black box manufacturer. 

The bed is a glorious mess.

Removing the strap-on harness makes you feel just how loosened your own limbs have become, too. Come to think of it, this might be your new heavy-duty workout. None of your friends know you do this kind of cardio involving the best ass in the whole city as your personal trainer.

Yuzu’s butt has turned you into a drenched, wobbly homo sapiens that will probably look in the mirror by tomorrow and proclaim herself a bodybuilder from those sheer muscle burn gains. 

When the two of you show up at the rink tomorrow, you both need hunky guys carrying you in by the armpits or something. 

And the whole world will wonder how Yuzu’s wonky ankle magically recovered overnight but he can’t sit.

Changing the duvet at quarter past twelve with an unmovable Yuzu on top of it seems like a thing of the impossible. It’s soiled, it’s sweaty, it would probably make it to the first page if a reporter ever got hold of it. 

But you take it pragmatically and opt for sleeping on Yuzu’s cleaner side of the bed intertwined. It’s surprisingly dry there. Big laundry day tomorrow, anyway.

The only thing you manage to do is reach for the window to open and to grab a glass of water from the bedstand to share. He’s chugging the remaining half down in one go. His hands? Oh wonder.

More than steady.

He calmed completely. After he puts down the glass, you scoot closer to him.

„Your foot — better?“

„Oh? I didn’t even think about it.“

He wriggles his left leg back and forth underneath the blanket, then concludes with a surprised face:

„It’s turning pretty well? I think you hit a nerve. Maybe you should split me in half more often.“

He shrugs. Yuzu’s serious face while saying that so dryly makes you laugh.

„Looks like it,“ you draw out the open lube bottle from beside you, finally closing the lid. „Do you… need a towel?“

„I just need you. I have to be disgusting for once.“

„I’ll scrape that all off tomorrow before we leave. Hot shower, five tons of shampoo. I’ll be breaking out the stuff you clean your skates with if I have to.“

That makes Yuzu chuckle. In fact, he beams a little.

„Sounds like something to look forward to.“

„I hope you can walk, anyway. Is it painful?“

Your biggest sorrow at this point. Taking his mind off was easy, but now he’s got boneless legs. Your conscience nags you for dicking him down out of all possible things.

„You have your weapon license now. I gotta admit… the last one…“

…was ass destruction 3.0, you complete his sentence in your mind. It’s nothing a normal human being could have stomached. „I’ll manage, though. I still feel my legs.“

„God, how does he do it.“

A smug „He’s Yuzuru Hanyu, that’s how, aw yeah!“  is what you imagine God’s answer to sound like. But instead, all you get is a little smile. Very well, from the little God in your bed.

„Pooh did this. When I squeezed him, I knew I could take it.“

He reaches to the middle of the bed. Five consecutive head pats for the bear plushie and Yuzu looks content already.

„Winning medals with just one working ankle is the same as doing it with a demolished ass to you, huh.“

„It’s not demolished, it’s improved and overhauled,“ he smiles. „Never felt any better. It was really good how you did this.“

It’s his strangest sport philosophy yet. But if you know one thing, it’s that Yuzu’s bizarre body hacks have gotten him the podium every time. You can already see him asking for another strap round before your mind’s eye. Before the next competition, at least.

„You honestly blow my mind.“

„And your dick, tomorrow night,“ goes Yuzu’s cheeky winner grin. There it is. Insatiable how you love it. You already feel the need to google ‚hip thrust strengthening exercises’. 

Maybe, if science advances to that point one day, you honestly clone yourself so double your capacity. And so that you can spitroast him. Maybe you order another dildo from the website and pin it to the wall, anyways.

„Must be Mister Lube who did all of this.“

„I want to buy more of it tomorrow. Any other groceries we need, anyway? I’ll be cleaning the floor, too. I hope I’m not too worn-out after skating.“

„We’ll do one thing after the other, alright. There are still rice cakes left for breakfast, those will get you through the day.“

You’ve seen how much of an energy burst the cakes gave him. 

„I really like those,“ he mumbles, then nuzzles into the pillow, sucking in your hair’s scent. Oh, it’s the moment you waited for. „Snickers diva… happy.“

A very cheery, puffy face slowly comes to rest beside you now, hair going in all directions. Infallible and ever-returning: Professor Yuzu’s explosive hairdo. Pooh is all clingy at his chest. A little worn from all the squeezing, but still with an amicable chuckle. You smile from ear to ear. It’s the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen.

You kiss Yuzuru’s little nose and lips until he’s making sleepy sounds. Either this is a late-night mirage created by your very moan-tested ears, or he is actually purring. You make sure the Pooh plush resting at his chest faces him correctly, then clear away the remaining strawberries, shut the window, arrange the blanket, put on your pajamas properly.

The humidifier whirrs in the background while tiger baby does one last big yawn before drifting off. In a matter of two minutes, maybe even less than that. 

Just as you reach toward the bedstand to switch off the light, Yuzu’s hand curls into your shirt from behind. You turn, he is all dozed off. Not one leg fidgeting. However, talking in his sleep with his hand nestled into your PJs.

„Big hug please, Pooh mama.“

© 2017-2020 submissive-bangtan. all rights reserved. do not repost.  for entertainment purposes only. all portrayals fictive.

[vantaenims]

bittersweet | yoongi

pairing: idol!yoongi x reader

genre: established relationship au | fluff, bit of angst

word count: 7.6k

warning/s: alcohol consumption.

summary: Being miles away from you, Yoongi’s starting to feel like he’s missing out in your life and he can’t help but be guilty about it hence the reason why he made it his mission to be with you as much as possible now that he’s back home.

Part of BTSGhostieBingo (idol!au prompt)

masterlist

all rights reserved © vantaenims - do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

—

Yoongi has his hand around the steering wheel, drumming his fingers against it whilst his other arm is placed beside the window, knuckles pressed against his temple as he impatiently stared at your door for about five minutes now. Unlocking his phone, he was about to text you again until a blue bubble popped up saying ‘wait’ as a reply to his first text when he told you he’s outside already, making him wonder what’s taking you so long.

During your call last night, you mentioned to Yoongi that you’re running low on food and that you’ll be going to the grocery store tomorrow, causing him to immediately tell you that he’ll join and accompany you even though he still has a song that he needs to work on which he didn’t told you since you’re probably going to decline his offer to help if you happen to know it.

It’s a song he’s been working on ever since the tour started which is exactly three and a half months ago but he only got to finalize it last night just so he could spend the weekend with you hence the reason why he’s running low on sleep for today but it’s not like that mattered to him right now.

Given the circumstances of his idol life, the majority of the time spent in your relationship is being far away from each other that’s why he tries to make up for the lost time by being with you almost every day ever since he got back last week.

Truth be told, Yoongi never really believed Long Distance Relationships could work and as a matter of fact, he thought that this relationship would just be some sort of a fling to him, bearing in mind that it’s hard for him to enter in a fully committed relationship given his hectic life but luckily, his opinion about it changed when you two somehow managed to make it work - for about two years already and more years to come.

His thoughts were then cut off as soon as he heard a knock coming off from the window of the passenger seat, unlocking the doors once he saw that it was only you whom he'd been waiting all this time.

“Finally, what were you doing for the past ten minutes?” 

“Hello” you greeted in such a cheery voice as you always do whilst you leaned towards Yoongi to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Did you just got out of the shower?” Yoongi chuckled as soon as he saw how the upper half of your hair is dry while the other half is still damp.

“Sorry, i just woke up when i read your text that you’re on your way” you said as you buckled yourself in your seat.

“I got out of my house at 2 p.m.” Yoongi said, looking at the time that’s displayed on his touch screen stereo, “What time did you sleep?”

“I think it was about 1:30 or 2 in the morning” 

“You’ve slept for twelve hours!?” Yoongi bewilderingly looked at you, slightly jealous at how you’ve managed to get a full sleep while he’s only running on four hours of sleep even though he willfully did that on purpose.

Of course, he wouldn’t tell you the lengths he had to go just so he could free his time for today  because knowing you, you’d probably scold him and tell him to just rest which he thinks is surprisingly the last thing he wants to do, not when time’s limited for him as he needs to leave in a few days to continue the tour.

“It’s just one of those lazy days” you said whilst yawning as you stretched your arms to fully awaken yourself.

“You haven’t eaten anything yet then?” 

“Not yet but I’m fine, I don’t really feel that hungry” you smiled, grabbing Yoongi’s free hand to intertwined them with yours when he gave you a discontented look that didn’t last for long as he return back the smile, raising your intertwined hands to kiss the back of your hand before he freed his hand to switch the gear.

Yoongi proceeded to drive towards the direction of the grocery store where the grocery is but he thought that a little detour won’t hurt, not when that detour is towards the Mcdonald’s Drive Thru.

“I’ll have the six pieces McNuggets meal and can you make the drink and fries into large, thanks.”

As soon as Yoongi got the paper bag, he then placed it on your lap as he continued to drive to exit the drive thru and onto your real destination, not even sparing you a look, making you laugh at how he’s still trying to appear so nonchalant after all these years when he does caring things like this but it’s fun to tease him when he’s acting to be one.

“Aww Yoongs, Thank you” you pinched his cheek which only caused him to scoff as he tried to remove your hand away from his face even though you could clearly see he’s trying to hide his smile as he rolled his eyes.

--

It has been a year since your relationship with Yoongi was announced to the public but you still have to be very cautious whenever you two go out in public as to not raise any unwanted attention and you were both given a set of rules that you need to abide with but there’s this one rule you always seem hard to follow - lessen any displays of affection in public as much as possible.

You put on your mask and put the hood of your jacket up once Yoongi turned off the engine as he followed you in disguising himself, wearing his black bucket hat and mask. As you got out of the car, your hand instinctively went to reach towards Yoongi’s until you realized the situation you both are in, causing you to keep your hands inside the pockets of your jacket as you walked distantly beside him. 

It was weird for you to act so secretive when you two started to date and it was way too hard when you both have to keep your meetings a secret when your relationship got official like that time when you were told that you can only eat out in public at this designated place which is an exclusive restaurant that’s owned by one of Yoongi’s trusted friends for the sake of protecting both of your privacy.

Eventually, talks about your relationship with Yoongi gradually died down after it was publicly announced as time passed by though it can’t be helped that it’ll be sometimes brought up in one of their interviews even though it’s totally unnecessary in the first place but you guessed that you just have to live and deal with it.

“What do you want for dinner?” Yoongi asked as he got one of the carts from the aisle, volunteering to push it around while you scan for food.

“Are you going to cook dinner?” you looked back at him with wide eyes, a surge of excitement crashing at the news.

Yoongi knows how big of a fan you are of his cooking and he’s certain about it because you basically bombard him with messages whenever you get a sudden craving for it or how you’ll express your disappointment whenever you buy something he would cook only for it to be compared, saying how it’ll never taste as good as his which he’s taken pride of.

“Does steak and mashed potatoes sound good?” Yoongi asked as he put the frozen sirloin into the empty cart only to see that it wasn't empty anymore as he spotted the bottle of red wine.

“I knew you’d say my favorite, that’s why i got the wine”

“You never liked the taste of wine”, Yoongi stated, remembering that time he brought a wine with him when he visited your house only for it to be only consumed by him as you can never stand anything that tastes bitter which is one of the things he first learned about you.

But there was that one instance when you got him amused when you decided that you’ll be drinking with him although it’s totally way out from what he expected. The memory is still as clear as day when he remembered you walking out of his kitchen with a wine glass on hand  that you placed on the centerpiece table of his living room.

“Are you going to have a wine?” Yoongi asked with his brows raised, settling his glass filled with wine on top of the table.

“I thought it’s not fair for you to drink alone so might as well join you” you adjusted yourself as you sat down on the carpeted floor beside Yoongi.

“You really don’t have to drink -” Yoongi didn’t get to finish his sentence when you whipped out a grape juice box behind your back, watching as you poked the covered hole with it’s straw to squeeze out the contents into the glass.

“Cheers?” you said as you swirled the liquid in the glass, making it look as if it’s the same wine he’s drinking and Yoongi can’t help but laugh at your quirky attempt. 

“A grape juice?”

“Hey, wine is also a grape juice except it’s fermented and i can never like anything that tastes bitter so what do you expect?” you reasoned out but nonetheless find the whole thing funny too.

Yoongi can only watch in delight as you get more defensive about the topic of grape juice vs wine, convincing him that both of the beverages are sourced from the same fruit, the only difference is that the other one tastes bitter whilst the other one tastes sweet.

“It’s okay baby, it’s the thought that counts” 

You stopped yourself from talking as soon as you heard the term of endearment come out of Yoongi’s mouth. It was always you who would call him ‘baby’ until now and you can’t help but blush as you try to conceal your growing smile when you remember what Jungkook told you.

“You are indeed cute when you’re drunk” you looped your arm around his as you rested your chin on his shoulder to kiss his cheek, making his smile bigger.

Yoongi clinked his glass with yours before he downed the remaining wine in one go as he try to quickly cover up the embarrassment he felt although there’s no use in hiding it anymore once he felt how warm his face feels like, not knowing if it’s the effect of the alcohol or if it’s your effect - obviously, it’s you.

--

“Can we grab a coffee first before we leave?” Yoongi asked once he felt his energy slowly depleting, the cup of coffee he had in the morning clearly out of his system now that he’s feeling a bit grumpy which is more of a reason that he needs to refuel with caffeine.

“Sure” you said as you closed the trunk of the car after you helped him load the groceries, following Yoongi to the cafe that’s right beside the grocery store.

Thankfully, there aren’t many people dining inside the cafe that’s why you’ve gotten to the counter right away as Yoongi did the work of telling your orders to the attendant whilst you scanned the cakes that are displayed as you munch on a pack of Skittles you got back in the store.

“Do you want anything else?” Yoongi asked just before he could finalize the orders.

“I’m fine, there’s no red velvet cake” you said as you managed to stand beside Yoongi, a piece of Skittles in between your fingers ready to go straight to Yoongi’s mouth until you stopped when you felt the cashier attendant’s gaze on you as if she’s trying to recall why you looked so familiar.

You’ve clearly forgotten that you’re still out in public and that your face is perfectly visible as you’ve lowered your mask to eat but it’s too late to hide your identity as you saw how her eyes widened once she recognized who you are. She definitely got starstruck once she glanced beside you where Yoongi’s standing though she remained professional and offered a smile towards the both of you which you both gladly returned with a bow of your head.

“Your orders will be ready in a while”, she said as she handed the receipt to Yoongi who let out a little chuckle as you both made your way towards the claiming area, still finding it hilarious how you quickly retrieved your hand to eat the candy instead when the attendant recognized you.

“I think i should eat this later” you muttered as you placed the mask back again on your face, sealing the pack of candy for later. 

Looking over your side, you bumped your hips against Yoongi’s when you saw his shoulders still visibly shake from laughter and how his eyes turned into little crescents from smiling. 

Yoongi went over the counter as soon as your orders were called, getting his Iced Americano while he handed to you your Caramel Macchiato, muttering a thank you to the staff as you made your way out of the shop and back to the parking lot.

“Ah finally, i could eat in peace” you said as you got inside the car, discarding your mask and taking your hood down. You reopened the pack of Skittles, pouring them over your palm as you straight out put it on your mouth and also pouring more for Yoongi but he offered his palm instead when you reached your hand out to feed it to him.

“Say ah” you said as you picked one piece of candy instead, zooming in your finger like an airplane into his mouth.

“What am i? A child?” Yoongi playfully grimaced but obeyed nonetheless as you popped them into his mouth.

“Yes you are” you chuckled, resting back in your seat as you raised your leg to tuck it under the other leg, “Why don’t we play a game and you try to guess the flavor of the skittle i’ll feed you?”

You strictly instructed Yoongi that he could not cheat and inspect the color of the candy, telling him he could only look straight ahead at the road, causing him to laugh, saying how he’s going to look straight either way as he needs to keep his attention on driving you both home safely.

“Raspberry”, Yoongi said in full certainty.

“How can you tell Raspberry apart from Wild Cherry?” you squint your eyes at him, skeptical if he cheated or he’s just really good at guessing it because you’re positive that those two flavors taste exactly the same - for you, atleast.

“Maybe my sense of taste is better than yours”

“Yeah you’ve got all the flavors right” you’re impressed to say the least as you try to feed Yoongi another piece of Wild Cherry to test him again until he gently grabbed your hand to stop you as he felt his throat itch from eating too much sweets.

“Doesn’t your throat itch from eating too much sweets?” Yoongi looked over at you, watching as you devoured the candy you were going to feed him instead and as if that isn’t sweet enough, you grabbed your caramel based beverage to sip on it which just made Yoongi cringe in distaste.

“I just really like anything that’s sweet”

“You’re going to get Diabetes at an early age” Yoongi warned as he always has but he knows that his warning will just be disregarded as you continue to satisfy your sweet cravings as you always do.

“That’s why i’m eating as much sweets as i can before i’ll not be able to”

“What kind of logic is that?” 

“You like anything that’s bitter as much as I like sweets so shut up” you shrugged as you pointed out but you totally get that he’s just looking out for you and you appreciate that.

“I atleast won’t get any chronic disease from it”, Yoongi retorted, chuckling at how silly this banter is to begin with and that reminded how adverse you two are and he’s not just talking about your taste preferences but personality wise too.

You and Yoongi are too different from each other - you’re more of an outgoing and friendly person while he is more reserved and quiet one. All his life, Yoongi thought he’d prefer someone who’s similar to him yet here he is, eating up his own thoughts as he eventually got you and he’s not saying that as a bad thing because he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Your relationship is a living testimony that opposites do attract and it’s not as bad as what everyone makes it out to be though there were still a lot of differences and barriers you both have to overcome in the beginning of the relationship which he thinks is inevitable for every relationship to work.

The reason why you two get along so well is because you complement and balance each other, like how you both are able to strengthen each other’s weaker aspects. You’re always able to get him out of his comfort zone and he could always let you be vulnerable to him, let you out of that happy facade you’re always trying to keep up.

In conclusion, you bring out the best in him and he could hope you felt that way about him too, making you two a perfect pair, not even minding a bit how cheesy that thought is to him because it’s only a matter of fact.

--

“Why are you still here?” Yoongi sets aside the sirloin he’s been seasoning, getting distracted how you’re standing so close to him as you peer over his shoulders at what he’s doing much like a curious kid.

“What should i do next?” you asked him for the second time even though Yoongi told you that he’ll just call you whenever dinner’s ready but you’re so persistent in helping him out, causing him to gave in as he told you that you can set up the table which he think is done now that you’re pestering him again.

“Lounge in the sofa, i guess” 

“But i want to help you, Yoongs” you whined, making him chuckle, “Should i peel these potatoes?”

“I’ll do it” Yoongi grabbed the potato from you as well as the bowl that’s filled with it, keeping it close to his side so that you won’t be able to touch it and help him like what you’re suggesting, keeping in mind that he’s doing all of this to make up for the times he’s away.

Guilt would always creep up on him whenever he’s far away from you because you don’t deserve to be neglected like this, dating someone who’s mostly physically absent that’s why he’s doing the most of his ability as much as he can whenever comes back home so that he could actually fulfill the duties and responsibilities of being your boyfriend.

“Let me atleast wash the dishes later then?” you frowned with a pout, causing Yoongi to shake his head at you as he sheepishly smiled.

“Fine if that’ll get you to stop” Yoongi kissed your forehead before he diverted back his attention towards the potatoes but before he could even do so, you grabbed both sides of his face as you inched towards him until he felt your warm lips on his.

Yoongi closed his eyes as he kissed you back, hands almost going towards your waist to reel you in once you kissed him fervently until he remembered how his hands are still dirty and covered with sauce and seasonings for the steak but that didn’t stop him from wanting to deepen the kiss as he slowly tilted his head to the side only for you to break the kiss.

“Right, you don’t need my help” you teased as you peck him once more and also patted his bum right before you left to disappear towards the living room.

Yoongi scoffed that you got him stunned for a moment but nonetheless busied himself as he went back in preparing the dinner that didn’t take too much time to finally get it ready now that you’re not there to bother him anymore.

Withdrawing a plate from your cabinet, Yoongi then began to place the mashed potato first whilst he set the steak beside it, dripping some sauce around it as he tried to recreate those  plating presentations that’s normally seen in high end restaurants.

Yoongi grinned as soon as he entered the dining area, catching the sight of how you set the table into some sort of a candlelit dinner that’s accompanied with pieces of nearly wilted rose petals which he suspected came from the bouquet he bought for you last week but it now surrounds the four sides of the table.

“Y/N! Dinner’s ready” Yoongi called out as he placed the plates on the table. It didn’t take less than five seconds before you emerged in the dining room with a delighted look adorning your face.

“Oh wow it smells really good” you enclosed Yoongi in a back hug as you tipped your toes to kiss him on the cheek, “Thank you, baby.”

Yoongi hummed as he pulled your chair back, guiding you to sit before he made his way to his place as the gentleman he is. Picking up the bottle of wine, uncorking it as he poured it over his glass and onto yours right after but he let the mouth of the bottle hover on the rim of your glass before letting it pour as he looked at you.

“You sure you’d like some wine?” 

“It’s fine”

“If you say so” Yoongi smirked, filling your glass up even though he knows full well that you’re only going to take a sip or two before giving it all up. Clinking both of your glasses, Yoongi watches you whilst he takes a sip of his wine only for him to chuckle after he has seen you scrunching your nose from the bitter taste. 

“It tastes better with this” Yoongi said as he cut up a portion of his steak to feed you with it. The dissatisfied look on your face now gone as the bitterness mixed with the savory taste only made the flavor stronger.

“Your brother told me he taught you how to cook one”

“Yeah, how’d you know that?” Yoongi tried to rack his brain, recalling if he had ever informed you that his brother is the one who taught him to master the art of cooking but he can’t remember telling you that, knowing how he likes to take credit in his cooking skills.

“Your mom invited me over to their house on my birthday and your brother took in charge of cooking the food. I’ve sent you pictures, remember?”

You took out your phone to went over your photo gallery, scrolling over the pictures until it landed over the series of photos you took on the day of your birthday, showing Yoongi a picture of you and Holly nicely cuddled up in the sofa, earning a warm smile from him and on the corner of the picture he spotted the bouquet of tulips he assumes is the one he arranged in advance right by the local flower shop near you, instructing them to deliver it on your doorstep with some note he had written himself.

Lastly, you showed him the selfie you’ve taken on the dining table that’s filled with a sumptuous meal along with his whole family gathering around - his mom, dad, older brother and Holly whom his brother carried in his arms to fit in the picture. 

“I’m glad you had fun” Yoongi gave you a faint smile as he felt his guilt creeping up on him once again.

It has been two months since he had dearly missed your birthday because of the tour and he felt bad for missing out on a special day like this but that’s how it’s always going to be and he hates how this is conceived to be normal in your relationship when it’s unfair, specially for you.

You must’ve noticed his mood faltering a bit as you’ve put your phone down the table, placing your hand on top of him to squeeze it, making him stop focusing on slicing over his steak as he directed his eyes at you to give you a warm smile that indicates not to worry about him.

“I think the tour must’ve been a whole lot of fun, no? How was it this time?” you said, sipping on your wine that had you still scrunching your nose though albeit less noticeable now as you get more accustomed to the taste.

“It’s still great but more than ever now that we get to see more of our fans” Yoongi beamed a smile, taking pride how their hard work and the support from their fans has taken them to where they are now like how they were able to do stadium tours around the world or how they’re able to play concerts in places they’ve never imagine which is something beyond their goal and expectations.

“I’m proud of all of you and will always be, how about we toast on that?” you raise your glass as you take a big gulp of the alcohol out of courage which is a totally bad idea as it had made you immediately regret it, coughing up the bitterness away, causing you to give up the drink all in all.

“Just grab your grape juice from the fridge” Yoongi suggested, chuckling when you stood up to go over the kitchen to do as told and guessed right that you’ll never be able to withstand the alcohol.

The dinner went on with Yoongi urging you to talk more about what you’ve been doing lately but you protested that it has been practically boring and uneventful like his which he interjected that it goes the same for him as well. Apart from performing, he spent most of his time holed up in his hotel room to produce and compose songs or sleep like you’ve never known this or how he’ll just go out to buy some music equipment he needs for his studio.

He’s pretty sure you’ve told him over the phone the story of how you’ve managed to step on a puddle that reached up to your shins on your way home from work, remembering how you’ve complained that it ruined your favorite pair of suede flats.

“Have i told you about this before?” you said, noticing how he continues to smile unfazed like he’s already familiar with this story.

“Yeah but go on” Yoongi assured you that he doesn’t mind at all if he’s heard it before. Nothing compares to all those facetimes and phone calls because this is what he truly missed - getting to talk to you in person with no distance and time difference in between you two.

Soon as you know it, the table looks almost empty now that all the food are completely gone except for Yoongi’s wine glass that’s still filled with the alcohol as he still continuously drink from it while you opted to go for dessert and eat the cookies ‘n cream ice cream flavored you’ve got in the grocery.

The conversation’s still pretty going at this point with you doing most of the talking as you relaxly laid back against the chair with your crossed legs and Yoongi would just stare at you as he rested his elbow against the table with his cheeks pressed against his palm, casually laughing or putting in a few words.

“Tired?” you asked once you noticed his half lidded eyes and how he’s blinking them ever so slowly.

“No, i’m just a bit buzzed i guess” Yoongi denied as he tried to fight off the exhaustion but you did not buy his excuse as you abandoned your pint of ice cream by placing it on the table to stand up and get the plates to put them towards the sink.

Yoongi tailed behind you as he got the pint of ice cream to put them back in the freezer and the wine glasses which you got off of his hand as soon as he was next to you.

“I got this, why don’t you go up and pick something to watch”

“I’m not tired” you laughed now that Yoongi’s cute side is starting to come out as he placed his head on your shoulders with his arms around yours whilst you opened the faucet to run down water over the kitchenwares.

“Just go and let me do this” you turned around to push him away from you with all your might though it’s useless as he stubbornly stood his ground but nonetheless let you guide him when you grabbed his hand and led him towards the end of the stairs.

Standing on the first step, Yoongi leaned down to leave a kiss on top of your head that had you giggling whilst he told you to hurry up before he ascended to leave you to do your task. You ran back to the kitchen as you cleaned up the place as quickly as possible but still making sure not to miss a spot.

You wiped your wet hands with a towel now that you’re done with the dishes which leaves you to your routine of checking every corner of the first floor - unplugging the appliances, getting your water container in the fridge, and securely double checking the locks.

As you went up and open the door to your room, you were immediately greeted with a dimly lit light setting thanks to the television and on the edge of your bed, you see Yoongi clad in a loose white shirt and gray shorts that has been kept in your closet for times he chooses to stay over in your place as he drys his hair with the towel on his hands, signifying that he had just gotten out fresh from the shower.

“What are we going to watch?” you asked as you stood in front of Yoongi to grab the towel from his hand so that you could do the work of drying his hair instead.

“What do you want? I haven’t seen anything that’s interesting yet” Yoongi grabbed your waist to set you aside so he could have a good view of the television as he clicked on the remote to scan the films but still remained his hand on your waist even though you’re not obstructing the view anymore.

“Well, you decide. I’ll join you in a second” you detach yourself from Yoongi’s hold as you go over to your closet to grab some comfortable clothes to change into. You let the damp towel dry as you hang it on your chair before you could enter your bathroom to take a quick shower.

With his hair damp and unruly, Yoongi got up to go over your vanity table where your hair comb is as he drag it along his hair until he noticed the corkboard hanging on your wall just beside the table which he has never seen before, guessing you might’ve put it up while he was away.

It was filled with polaroid pictures of the both of you but mostly of Yoongi and he looked unaware in mostly all of it as you like to candidly take pictures of him but there are also random things attached to it like movie tickets, flower petals, and other things you deemed sentimental but what catches his attention the most is the tissue with some scribbled words on it.

It was a tissue from Baskin Robbins and it has a badly drawn stick figure on it with a text bubble on the side - ‘It’ll be okay’ is what’s written on it. The smudged black ink giving away that it has been sometime ago - two years ago to be precise.

If he remembers it right, he had drawn this when he picked you up from work that time and you remained silent for the whole ride, reasoning that it’s just one of those bad days at work. 

It was also a time when you still find it hard to be vulnerable around him given how the both of you just started dating and that just gave him an idea to go to an ice cream store first on the way to your house, knowing how sweets could always lift your spirits up.

You both got settled inside the car once you got your ice cream and finally be on your way to your house which is something you’ve been dying to do ever since you got from work. Yoongi’s clearly concerned for you but you’re glad he’s not pushing you to say anything but at the same time you felt bad for being silent for the whole time, not wanting to pass the burden you’re feeling.

“Here, have some tissue with you” Yoongi handed it over to you as he got the car out of the parking area until he felt your hand on top of his.

“Thank you, Yoongi” you said with glassy eyes and he’s glad that it’s what took for you to confide in him and for you to start trusting him enough that you managed to show the weak side you’re trying to conceal from him at the start.

Yoongi removed his hand from the tissue at the sound of the bathroom door opening as you came out with a towel wrapped around your hands, dressed in one of those short sleeved top and bottom silk pajama sets he got for you back when he was in Japan.

“I didn’t know you kept this”, Yoongi said with a smile tugging on his face.

You discarded your clothes towards the hamper as you came closer to Yoongi to see that he’s pertaining about the board you’ve recently hung, making you flushed at how he’s not supposed to even see how you keep every piece of something that just reminds you of your time with Yoongi but it’s just the way you are with how those pieces serves as a token of your memory.

“Yeah, I know it’s weird” you said as you look over the board and spot the receipt from the restaurant you both have your first date, embarrassed even more as you sit on the chair to remove the towel from your head as you focus instead on keeping it dry.

“It’s not weird, baby”

Yoongi enjoys making you fluster as much as you like doing it to him too that’s why he’s taken this as an opportunity to tease you more. He took the towel from your hand as he gently blotted and squeezed it against your hair much like what you did to him awhile ago, setting aside the hair you purposely let down to cover your face to the side and place it behind your ear.

“Ow be gentle, let me do it” you complained when Yoongi yanked your hair a bit as he combed through the tangles.

“Sorry, let me just take care of you” Yoongi swatted your hand away but his sweet words got you giggling and also a blushing mess.

As soon as your hair got fully combed, you stood up as Yoongi grabbed your wrist to drag you with him on the bed. He first got himself settled as he sat down with his back pressed against your headboard whilst he pulled you in to let you sit in between his legs, encircling his arms around you as you laid the back of your head on his chest.

“I really can’t find anything fun to watch, why don’t you choose?”

Getting the remote on the nightstand, you scan through the wide variety of movies as you read the plot and watch each trailer but nothing piqued your interest much as what Yoongi told you, sighing in discontentment as you turn off the television.

“Do you want to listen to some music instead?” you suggested, looking up to see Yoongi nod in agreement. You turned on the bluetooth speaker as you paired it with your phone, searching for some songs to play until you just thought of an idea that had you stifling your laughter.

“Ah why play this one?” 

Yoongi’s proud of his recently released mixtape but you had him cringing upon hearing Daechwita play which is the least thing he’s expecting for you to choose. His mixtape just doesn’t fit the mood right now, he’s thinking you’ll be playing those mellow songs you could easily sleep and cuddle into which is something he feels like doing tonight.

“Why? It’s your song” you chuckled even though you can’t clearly see Yoongi’s reaction right now but you just know he’s scrunching his face, “Fine, i’ll change it.”

You chose another mixtape to play and that is Honne’s No Song Without You. Pressing shuffle, the track By My Side instantly played that got you smiling as you remember how you thought of Yoongi when you first heard this song. Actually, all love songs remind you of Yoongi if that isn’t cheesy enough.

Humming along to the song, you grabbed Yoongi’s hand to face his palm towards you as you set your palm against his just to compare how small your hand is compared to him. You decided to trace along the lines with your fingers as you write down the letters of the word that perfectly describes what Yoongi is to you - Home.

“Are you going to do some palm reading and tell me about my future?”

“Hmm your future’s still pretty bleak but there’s one thing that’s clear”

“And what is it?”

“I’m in it” you said that had you giggling which also caused Yoongi to do the same.

“Of course you are”, Yoongi hugged you tighter, swaying the both of you side to side as he kissed your cheek.

You twisted your body to the side so that you’ll be able to put your arms around his neck, the side of your face still remaining on his chest whilst you closed your eyes as you get even more comfortable in this position until you’ve thought of a better idea to make it more comfortable or rather relaxing for Yoongi.

“Lay down on your stomach” you commanded, sitting up straight that made Yoongi’s hold loosen around you.

“Why?”

“Let me take care of you” you repeated the words he told you, sitting yourself on the other side of the bed as you watched Yoongi plopped the side of his head on the pillow where he also kept his arms under. You then straddled his waist after he got himself settled, pressing both of your palms on his shoulder blades, massaging it gently to untie the knots.

Ever since Yoongi got back from tour, he did as much to be with you and to literally take care of you which didn’t go unnoticed - he helped you in assembling your bookshelf that you never bothered to open or how he even changed one of the bulbs from your chandelier that you didn’t notice had burnt out already. 

“Your muscles are a bit tense” you said as you dug the heel of your palm to apply more pressure to his shoulder that had Yoongi humming in pleasure, “Have you even rested properly ever since you got back?”

“I’m okay” you sighed, grabbing his shoulders as you instructed him to turn around so that he could face you but you remained to be straddling him still.

“Yoongi, you’re almost with me everyday and i know that you’re still working on some songs”

The least thing he wants right now is to make you worry about him because he’s the one that should be worrying about you when you’re always the one that’s being left behind here and no, he’s not actually worried but scared that it might literally happen with the two of you growing apart that one day you’ll wake up and suddenly feel the whole long distance thing to be overwhelming and unbearable.

“I just feel guilty for leaving you here and i also want to make the most out of the days i have left with you” Yoongi finally confessed as he sat himself up to be closer to you, hands on your waist as he drew circles on your exposed skin where your shirt rose up before his other hand made way to the side of your face to reel you in for a kiss.

Yoongi bit your lower lip, causing you to slightly open your mouth which he took as a sign for him to slid in his tongue to clash it with yours, making sure to kiss you gently and passionately as he could as he pour his raw feelings into it, wanting to savour the moment slowly rather than taking it in a rush.

The kiss was nothing but pure longing for each other - longing for all the times you’ve missed and for the time he’ll leave again which will be in three days to continue the Asian leg tour. It isn’t also a bad thing because when he comes to think of it, it’s the last part of the tour but that still isn’t an excuse to make Yoongi feel guilty again as he’ll be gone in a span of three months.

It was clear that your kiss is getting more eager as you play with the hair on the nape of his neck, pulling him in close as much as possible when you wrapped your legs around his waist whilst your other hand has made its way under his shirt, resting it above his chest where you can feel his heart that’s beating erratically.

You’re making it hard for Yoongi to take this slow reason why he detached his lips from yours, chuckling when he heard you emit a disappointed grunt but not for long when his warm lips then invaded the base of your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses as he work his way up to your jaw, pecking the side near your ear as he whispered.

“I’ve missed you”

He was about to kiss your cheek until you pulled him in by his shoulders, snuggling your face into the crook of his neck that had him quite puzzled at the sudden action but nonetheless let you do so as the both of you stayed like that for a while - you sitting on his lap with your legs around his waist and your arms securely around his neck, head still hiding from him while he rubbed your back and gently caressed your hair.

The warmth of your bodies and gentle touches against each other are exchanged between the two of you, not minding how you’re just basking in the silence as you solely focus on enjoying each other’s presence with the music making everything seem so melodramatic and it was just one of those moments you’d call to be bittersweet.

The silence between you two was soon gone as he heard you sniffling, alarming him even more when he felt hot tears falling onto his neck. Yoongi tried to pry you away as he leaned back to get a proper look at you but that just made you tighten your arms around him, burying your face even more into his neck.

“What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, chuckling a bit to mask the reason why you’ve suddenly gotten so  upset, “It’s nothing.”

“Are you sure about that?” Yoongi asked as he laid back down the mattress, joining you with him.

“I'm sorry, it’s just that i still can’t get quite used to it” your voice was muffled but he perfectly heard you and catched on that you’re referring to him leaving so soon again. Finally, he was able to see your face as you adjusted yourself, wiping the tears as you pressed one of your hands on his chest where you rested the side of your face onto.

“You don’t have to be sorry about it” Yoongi comforted you as he gently ran his thumbs along your cheek, “I should be the one saying sorry to you.”

“Yoongs, you don’t have to be sorry about it too” you leaned in towards his touch as you rested your hand on top of his that’s cradling your face, earning Yoongi a smile. 

“I know our relationship is far from normal and it’s sometimes hard for the both of us but I just want to assure you that the distance wouldn’t keep us apart. I won’t leave you because you’re my home and my safe space, Yoongi.”

It’s a rare sight to see Yoongi get emotional but here he is tearing up at your words and how you instantly eliminate the doubts and guilt he has been carrying with himself. Yoongi chuckled as he covered his eyes with his arm, making you laugh too with tears welling up your eyes at the sight of Yoongi crying as the emotionally sensitive person you are.

Turning to the side, Yoongi set you to lay beside him as you both completely faced each other, fondly staring at you whilst he thread his fingers in your hair that had you closing your eyes. Your left hand in between you two caught his attention, fingers immediately landing on your palm as he wrote down the word you’ve written on his.

Yoongi looked up at you as soon as you enclosed your hand around his, watching how your eyes are still close but a small smile is now adorning your face. He scooted closer until  your foreheads touched, closing his eyes as well but before he could drift off to sleep, he dearly whispered the words to express the same sentiment.

“You’re my home and I'll always come back for you.”

--

A/N: The tissue with scribbled words was based on irl and it just gets me soft everytime, reason why i had to write it down hehe. Anyways, hope you like this one and if you like, you could give me feedback about it hehe.

[gettingvetted]

An Update

I’ve been a little absent on here recently, but I’ve been going through a bunch of life changes!

First, back in November I started crunching some numbers and realized my boss was not paying me the commission I had earned. Between that and the multiple ways that this clinic just does. not. work. for me as a practice, I knew I was going to leave at the end of my contract anyway. I decided to wait until after the holiday season to broach the topic with my boss. By early January, she owed me about $25k in commission. She told me I was calculating everything wrong, that it was illegal for me to send my numbers to my lawyer so he could check after me (spoiler alert, it’s definitely not illegal to do that), and that if I wanted to be paid that much then she would have to start firing support staff and she *cares* about those people. Mhmm... well that pissed me off to no end, so that night I applied for 4 different jobs and was offered positions at 2 of them by the beginning of February. I was all prepared for her to sue me when I broached the topic of leaving my position early (she had threatened to sue a previous associate over leaving 3 days early, much less 2.5 months early); however, she did not. I turned in my 60 days’ notice and my last day is April 18. I start at my new clinic on May 1 (or May 3, since May 1 is a Saturday and they probably won’t start me out on a Saturday with no other doctors there for my first day). This clinic is the complete opposite of where I am now. They have spectacular boundaries with the clients (things that are not emergencies do not get worked in if they don’t have any more same-day sick appointments available), are completely willing to fire clients for poor behavior, there is no on-call, I will work every 3rd Saturday (instead of working every Saturday except one each month), I will get paid a lot more, and their standard of medicine is generally much higher. The one thing that makes me sad is that it will be small animal only (and exotics, if I decide I want to dip my toes into that pool). However, I happen to be friends with the owner of the mixed animal (mostly large animal) clinic in the same town and he is going to let me ride along with him a couple of mornings each month so I can keep up my large animal skills. I have secured housing that is only 15 minutes from work and 10 minutes from Walmart and grocery stores/restaurants, while still being out in the country on private land with a private landlord, in my budget, on a well (so no water bill!) and literally within walking distance of the place I planned to keep my horse no matter where I ended up living.

Second, speaking of my horse... I bought that mare, Elara. She was over my budget but seemed absolutely perfect for me. I brought her home on January 30 and for a long time she was a completely different horse. Extremely herd-bound and anxious etc. It was too cold/too snowy/too muddy to do anything with her other than grooming for about 4 weeks, and then when I tried to ride her she was hot, sassy, and I was sure I was gonna get bucked off so I got off of her and then even struggled to lunge her because she wanted to take off. I kind of threw a temper tantrum on Facebook about that, because a horse that can’t be ridden and is herd-bound and anxious is not one that I want to own. I got some suggestions from horse friends for how to work with her, and enrolled the both of us in a professional virtual groundwork clinic. Since then we have both improved in our communication with each other. She has calmed down a lot and for my first real ride on her as her new owner, the barn owner where I am keeping her took us on an 80 minute trail ride up and down a difficult mountain trail and we both survived. There is no English riding around here, but the stable where I plan to keep her in the new place offers exclusively English riding lessons and training, so I hope to start taking lessons on her and competing in some local hunter/jumper type competitions this summer and work up to some BN/novice level eventing as well as take her on some trails. The property where I will be living backs up to some National Forest trails, and the landlord’s stepdaughter has a group of trail riding buddies and she’s willing to trailer the horse for me. Plus my best friend and her husband live about half an hour from where I’ll be living and they just bought their own horses to trail ride as well, so I hope to be able to ride with them too.

My relationship is doing well (I think). This move is about 95 minutes from where I’m currently living, but will only add about 20 minutes to our drive to see each other (picture sort of a triangle - here, there, and his place) so we plan to keep seeing each other. Plus, if he gets into medical school (which is his current plan) then my new place will be significantly closer to both of the medical schools where he’s had interviews so it will be easier for me to visit him on weekends. My mental health was pretty darn poor through January and February, partially because of S.A.D., but also just because of my job situation as a whole and how it went when I tried to confront my boss about not being paid what’s in my contract (not to mention the horse frustration). It is improving now that the days are getting longer and warmer, I have an “out” and something to look forward to, and working with Elara is getting much better. I have also finally restarted in therapy (my previous therapist was a grad student and graduated back in December) and this will be my first therapist who is not a grad student or involved in low-cost community-type work (not that there’s anything wrong with that - grad student and community therapists have helped me a lot but it’s nice to have a therapist that really wants to be there and can pick their own clients and determine their own client load).

Overall I think things are looking up and I am excited for what’s to come!

[chibi-beaver]

A Romantic Night in

Rating: Mature/Explicit (It straddles the line a bit)

Words: 3.7K

Fandom: Star Wars: The Bad Batch

Relationships: Hunter/Reader, Hunter & Omega

Characters: Hunter, Omega, You

Tags: Domestic fluff, Romance, Porn with plot (but like it's not terribly explicit most of the time), no y/n, little to no angst, FLUFF, female reader, established relationship, movie night, modern AU

Summary: You and your boyfriend Hunter have a fun night in after picking up Omega from soccer practice

(I don't usually write smut but it kinda just happened and I shocked myself with it lol)

Fic under the cut

You and Hunter were preparing your shopping list for the grocery store, going through the cupboards, seeing what was running low.

"I have an idea!" Hunter said.

"What is it?" You ask.

"You know you've wanted to have another date night, but we also have Omega tonight?"

"Yea" you respond. Omega was shared between Hunter and his brothers. She typically lives with Hunter but the others also get her throughout the week. She just spent Friday and Saturday with Tech and Wrecker, who recently moved out into their own apartment. You had a feeling that Tech thought the house was too full now that you were living there too. She also spent some time with Crosshair on Wednesday but his schedule was quite busy so she only spent time with him whenever he was not on a business trip.

"We should have a fun night in, we make some food, watch movies with Omega until she gets tired, and then after she goes to sleep, we can have our own movie date," Hunter said, as he hugged you from behind.

"That sounds like a great idea!" You say, turning your head to place a kiss on his cheek.

"We'll go pick up some stuff to make our favourite nachos, and some popcorn for Omega along with the rest of our groceries, then pick her up from soccer practice at 6:30, get her some dinner, and then we change into our PJs and watch movies," Hunter said. An ear-to-ear grin formed on his face as he described the plan. You smiled back as you felt some heat enter your cheeks. You then check your watch.

"Let's head out then, seeing as it's 5:30 and it takes us 20 minutes to get to the grocery store," you say.

"Yea, we should," Hunter said as he got the grocery note and the keys.

-------------

You got into the passenger seat while Hunter took the wheel. You plugged your phone into the AUX and started to play your favourite music.

"I didn't expect all this traffic at 5:30 on a Sunday night," Hunter remarked.

"Me neither," you said as you looked out the front window at all the cars.

"BUDDY! COME ON!" Hunter frustratedly said at the slow driver in front of him.

"Who does 45 kilometers an hour in a 70 zone?!" Hunter said.

"That guy apparently," you said as Hunter pulled into the other lane and passed him.

The rest of the drive to the store was relatively peaceful as Hunter's road frustration faded. He found a place to park and he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Happy to be off the main road?" you asked.

"Yes! I hate slow and incompetent drivers," Hunter said as he turned off the car. The two of you got out, took your bags, and went into the store.

"What's on our list?" you ask as Hunter gets a cart.

"We need chicken, milk, popcorn, peppers, some fruit, yogurt, cheese, salsa, sour cream, and tortilla chips," Hunter said, reading off the note.

"Sounds like a plan," you say as Hunter walks closely behind you, pushing the cart as you start looking for the various items. You start in the produce section where you get your peppers and some of Omega's favourite fruits. She was in a strawberry phase lately so you made sure you picked up strawberries.

"We need to get her something new too," Hunter said.

You noticed some blackberries nearby.

"Has she tried blackberries?" you ask, gesturing towards the half-pint of blackberries that are on sale.

"I don't think," Hunter said as he saw them too.

"Let's get them," you said.

"Ok," Hunter said as he let you put it into the cart.

You then proceed into the aisle with chips in it.

"One-stop shop it seems," you remark as you see chips, popcorn, and salsa in the same aisle.

"Mild or medium?" Hunter asks as he looks at the salsas.

"Medium, I need a little kick damn it," you say.

Hunter chuckles. "Remember the last time we had medium salsa?" he asks, clearly teasing you.

"No, nothing out of the ordinary happened," you insisted.

"Pretty sure last time you were begging for milk because it was too spicy," Hunter said as he stepped closer to you.

You knew what he was referring to but you decided to take it in an entirely different direction.

"Are you referring to the outcome of our last movie date?" you ask with a smug look on your face.

Hunter's cheeks turned bright red.

"Uh, well" Hunter said, not sure how to finish that sentence. You knew that was not the direction he was taking it. The last time you had medium salsa was a while before your last movie date with Hunter. You tried it for the first time and couldn't handle the spice. The outcome of your last movie date, however, was certainly not appropriate to discuss in a public setting such as aisle 1 of a grocery store.

"Don't tell me you're trying to make a sexual innuendo out of that," Hunter whispered.

You simply smirked and winked at him.

"Let's just say that two can play that game, cyar'ika," Hunter whispered as he put medium salsa into the cart and started to take the cart further down the aisle to get some popcorn. Your cheeks soon matched the colour of Hunter's. You can't help it but you also can't explain why when he says that word, you become putty in his hands. Especially after you learned what that word means. It did something to you, in a good way of course.

You catch up to him as he is looking at the prices of the popcorn.

"Should we buy the bigger package or the smaller one?" Hunter asked.

"The bigger one is obviously the better deal," you say.

"Yea but we don't use a lot of popcorn," Hunter said.

"It's not like popcorn is a perishable item though," you counter.

"True," Hunter says as he puts the bigger package into the cart.

Your next stop was the meat and dairy sections of the store. You pick up a package of fresh chicken breasts. It was bigger than what you needed for your nachos but you were going to use it for meal prep for the week. You tried to bring lunch from home as much as possible to work, and you were hoping to pass that way of thinking to Hunter too.

Once you got to the dairy section, you were disappointed to see that the yogurt you and Hunter like is not in stock.

"Damn," you say as you look at the empty shelf.

"You got that right," Hunter says.

"I guess we'll need to look somewhere else for it another time," you say.

"True, just not tonight," Hunter says while chuckling.

"Yea," you reply as you pick up the sour cream and Hunter picks up the milk.

"Last item, cheese," you say as you proceed further down the dairy section and find a block of cheddar cheese on sale.

"Let's get this checked in," Hunter says as you proceed to a self-checkout.

You get out of the store in record time. Bless those self-checkouts, you thought as you got into the car. The next stop was to pick up Omega from soccer practice.

The traffic seemed to calm down a bit while you were in the grocery store, with the main roads only about half as busy. It took no time to get to the field that Omega goes to for practice.

"Just in time," Hunter said as he looked at the clock in the car, 6:20. You got out of the car to join some of the other parents who had just gotten there to pick up their kids. You could tell that Hunter was feeling a bit anxious. All the other parents, you could tell were actually the parents of their kids while Hunter was in a different situation. He and his brothers took up the mantle of caring for Omega because their mother works so much and their dad died before she was born. It's gotten so bad that Hunter and his brothers were made her guardians and their mother only shows she's involved by sending Hunter, his brothers, and Omega money. While Hunter was quite a bit older than his sister, he wasn't quite old enough to be her dad without someone questioning his age when she was born. Hunter was 17 when she was born and she's 8 now.

"Hunter!" Omega called out after her practice ended.

"Hey kid," Hunter said as he collected her.

"How was practice?" he asked as the three of you went back to the car.

"It was good. I scored a goal today!"

"Really? That's awesome! Wanna get a happy meal to celebrate?" Hunter said.

"YES YES YES!" Omega said.

"Glad to hear it, let's get to McDonald's," Hunter said.

"Hi, welcome to McDonald's. What can I get for you?"

"Hi, can I get a McNugget happy meal," Hunter said into the drive-thru window.

"Yep, would you like the girl toy or the boy toy?"

"Which one do you want?" you whispered to Omega.

"Boy toy!" she said.

"She wants the boy toy," you relay to Hunter.

"Boy toy please," Hunter said.

"Great, your total is $5.51, drive through."

"You get to the first window.

"I can pay," you offer.

"No, I'm paying," Hunter insisted.

"You just paid for groceries, I can pay," you said but it was too late, Hunter had already tapped his card. Looking at you the entire time with a smug look on his face.

You rolled your eyes as he pulled up to the second window and got the food. Omega was elated to get her nuggets and fries and immediately started eating them.

"Mind giving Hunter a fry?" Hunter asked.

"I do mind," Omega said as she kept eating her fries. You laugh as she says this and she joins in.

"Wow thanks," Hunter said sarcastically before saying "it's a long walk home," referencing that he's driving the car. You knew he wasn't being serious based on his tone of voice. He was just playing around.

Omega had finished her meal by the time you three got back home.

"Make sure you bring your garbage in," Hunter reminded Omega as he turned off the car.

-------------------------------

Once you got into the house, Omega got into the shower while you and Hunter changed into your pajamas. Hunter quickly changed into his favourite pajamas, a black t-shirt with dull red camo pajama pants while you sifted through your pajama only to put on a pair of white shorts and a bright red t-shirt that had a faded logo of something on it. Omega still wasn't done in the shower when you both changed so you went downstairs and started making the nachos.

Your nachos called for grilled chicken breast that was liberally seasoned, diced bell peppers (colour doesn't matter), onions, jalapenos, and of course, lots of cheese. You started the chicken and grated the cheese while the chicken cooked. Meanwhile Hunter prepped the veggies. Hunter stole a few shreds of cheese before you smacked them out of his hands.

"Hey!"

"That's for the nachos!" you replied.

"Party pooper," Hunter said with a pout.

"It's better melted, trust me," you said.

Once the chicken was just cooked, you got the sheet pan ready with parchment paper and made a layer of chips. You put a thin first layer of cheese before adding the chicken.

"You got the veggies ready?" you asked.

"Just about," Hunter said.

Hunter then added the prepped veggies before you added a much thicker layer of cheese on top before sticking it into the oven.

"I love cooking with you," Hunter said as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Me too, when you and your big appetite aren't stealing some of the ingredients," you joked.

"You clearly haven't seen Wrecker's appetite."

"Fair enough," you replied.

"You know you love me anyways," Hunter said.

"I do," you said as Hunter left a few kisses on your neck.

You giggled as you heard Omega come downstairs. You pulled away from one another immediately.

"You wanna watch some movies wiht us?" Hunter asked.

Omega nodded her head.

"You want some nachos with us or do you want some popcorn?" Hunter then asked.

"Popcorn!" she said.

You smiled. You thought the kid was so cute sometimes.

Hunter put a bag of popcorn into the microwave, entering the time it says on the bag.

"Wanna help pick out a movie?" You asked.

"Sure!" Omega replied as you and her went to the couch and turned on the TV. You let her pick which streaming service she wanted. Of course she picked the one that had the most kids movies. Omega had her own kid friendly profile on every service you were subscribed to. She picked the same movie she always picks.

You got up for a minute to check on the nachos.

"I bet you can't guess what movie we're watching," you say, teasingly.

"It's the one about the lions again, isn't it?"

"Yep," you said as the microwave beeped. The popcorn was ready.

"I'll bring the popcorn in, you watch the nachos?" you ask.

"Sounds good babe," Hunter said as you emptied the popcorn bag into Omega's favourite bowl. This bowl was white with red stripes all over it. You think it might have been a Christmas bowl at some point with the candy cane like aesthetic. You put the bowl on the coffee table, closer to Omega in order to make room for the sheet pan of nachos. Hunter brings in bowls of sour cream and salsa before going back into the kitchen. You hear the oven open, meaning that he's bringing in the nachos.

"Wanna put on the movie?" you ask Omega.

"Yep!" she says as she picks up the remote and puts on her favourite movie.

Hunter sets the sheet pan down and sits on the right edge of the couch and puts his arm around you. You looked over at Omega, who seemed to be enjoying the opening scenes of the movie while eating her popcorn. You left Hunter's arms to take some nachos.

"mmmm" you quietly said as you ate your first bite.

"You're quite the cook," you whisper.

"Will there be any kisses for the cook tonight?" he whispers back.

"Maybe later," you say with a wink.

About a half hour later, Hunter noticed that Omega was out of popcorn but was looking at the nachos.

"Want some nachos?" he whispers.

Omega tried the nachos but didn't seem to be a fan of the peppers and picked them off.

Once the nachos were all gone you snuggled into Hunter for the rest of the movie. He kept his arm around you, rubbing your shoulder every once in a while, presumably to keep his hand from falling asleep. You rested your head on his shoulder and he started to play with your hair.

--------------------------------

The movie ended about 1 hour and 40 minutes later, after which Omega wanted to go to sleep.

Hunter went upstairs with Omega while you cleaned up all the food. You groaned at the thought of washing dishes so you put them in the dishwasher instead and turned it on.

"That's a job well done," you say before heading back into the living room.

Hunter soon proceeded downstairs.

"You put her to bed?" you asked.

"Yea, she was quite tired after soccer practice and a movie," Hunter said.

"I'd say, hopefully she gets enough sleep so that she won't be tired at school tomorrow,"

"I hope," Hunter says as he sits back on the couch with you.

You pick up the remote and went into your own profile. Scrolling through movies before you and Hunter finally agreed on one. It was an action movie about a superhero. As the movie starts, Hunter wraps his arm around you while you rest your head on his chest.

Hunter kisses your forehead. You look up at him and kiss him on the lips.

"Finally some kisses for the cook?" Hunter asks.

"You betcha!" You said as you raised your self to be closer to Hunter's level to make kissing him a bit easier. He kept his arm around you but lowered it slightly so that his hand was toying with the bottom of your shorts. You run your hand through his hair as he moves his hand under your shorts, massaging your butt.

"Someone's feeling a little frisky tonight," you remark as you adjust your positioning to be straddling him. He allows this, guiding your legs into position.

"How can I not be?" he says once you're in the desired position.

His cheeks are growing redder as his hands explore your body. He has one hand holding your waist while the other is making its way under your shirt. He plays with your tits for a few minutes before moving that hand to your waist too. He holds onto you as he plants some kisses to your neck. You softly moan as his lips hit all the sensitive spots that he knows gets you off. He leaves your neck as you coax him back up to kiss you on the lips again. Neither of you hold back with the kiss, exploring one another with your lips and tongues.

Once you pull away from one another, you remove your shirt. Hunter collects the shirt and throws it on the floor before taking off his own shirt, with your asssistance. Your legs start to hurt from being bent for a while. Hunter notices this.

"Wanna switch around?" he asks.

You nod your head as the two of you get up from the couch. You get back onto the couch, this time laying down while he finds his way between your legs, placing himself on top of you.

He kisses your lips for a bit longer before going lower. His lips move to your neck, then your chest. He stays there for a few minutes, kissing your tits and using his hands to get you off. You could tell that he liked pleasing you. Every time he tried something, he gauged your reaction and continued accordingly. You could also feel him getting harder against your pelvis.

He moved towards your stomach and soon reached your pelvis. He put his hand down your shorts and searched for your clit. You'd admit that he wasn't perfect at finding it but at least he tried. You removed his hand for a minute to take off your shorts and throw them to the floor as he did with your shirt. You soon tugged at his pants strings.

"Go ahead cyar'ika", he said.

"You know I like it when you call me that," you admit.

"That's why I do it," he whispered.

You take off his pants and put them on the floor with your own clothes. He moves your panties to the side and starts kissing you more. You moan softly as he does that, tyring not to be too loud as to not wake Omega. Instead you ran your hands through Hunter's hair, grabbing some of it.

Hunter chuckled before saying, "I see someone is enjoying themselves."

He puts your panties back where they're supposed to be once you decide to return the favour. You pull down his underwear and let your lips and tongue do the work with your hands being of assistance at times. He too softly moaned as your tongue hit a sensitive spot.

"How does that feel, cyar'ika?" you ask. Hunter chuckles and you soon realize that you kinda butchered the pronouciation.

"I butchered that, didn't I?"

"Yea but I like it, maybe I can teach you the proper pronounciation sometime," Hunter said.

"I'd like that," you said as you moved upwards from your current position, placing your head level with Hunter's.

"I'm sure you would, cyar'ika," Hunter said as he kissed you on the lips once again.

You then removed each other's underwear. Hunter teases you for a few moments before giving you what you want. You wrap your legs around him as he moves in and out of you.

However, the couch is nowhere near the size of your bed and as you move around to change positions, you fall off the couch. Hunter soon also falls and lands next to you, moving the coffee table slightly so that he didn't hit it.

"Hopefully Omega didn't hear that," you say as you lay next to Hunter.

"I don't think she did, she's sound asleep by now," Hunter said.

The two of you then laugh at the predicament.

"You wanna keep going?" you ask.

"Definitely," Hunter said as he sat himself up against the couch. You decide to straddle him once again. You position yourself onto him while he pulls some couch cushions down and places two under your knees. He places his hands on your ass as you control the pace this time. He raised his legs to make you and him more comfortable. You lean down to kiss him. He reciprocates the gesture, meeting you halfway. The kiss becomes pretty deep before he pulls away and out.

He soon finishes, with your assistance. You sit on the floor next to him afterward.

"It seems this movie night ended similarly to last movie night," you comment.

"I certainly don't mind this outcome," Hunter comments.

"Of course you don't you dog," you tease.

"Don't lie, you're just as naughty," Hunter teases back.

"We should probably clean this up and go to bed," you say.

"I couldn't agree more," he says as the two of you get up.

The curtains are closed so you don't mind not putting your clothes back on as you and Hunter repositon the coffee table and put the cushions back properly before heading upstairs and quickly heading to your room. The two of you then get into bed. You lay on your side and Hunter soon joins, spooning you. You turn your head around to face him for a moment. He leans in and kisses you softly.

"Good night cyar'ika".

"You're gonna keep calling me that now, aren't you?"

"Yep. Goodnight. I love you."

"Goodnight, I love you too," you say as you begin to drift off to sleep.

[100layersofdaddyissues]

Angel - Chapter 2

Here is chapter 2 of angel, i hope it satiates you fiends.

Warnings: smut, conspiracy around death, swearing

this was co-written and edited by my main bitch @bonjour-je-mappelle-fuckyou

  It had been days and you’d neither seen nor heard from Maxwell, you were beginning to worry that he had forgotten you in this big apartment, worrying that you had quit your job and left your home just for him to forget that you’d agreed to an arrangement with him, but hey, at least he forgot you in this apartment, and not your old one. He wasn’t asking for rent, Darius had brought you groceries the morning you had gone to your apartment to get the rest of your belongings, you reckon you were good for at least a few weeks before you ran out of food.

             As you pondered how long it would be until someone kicked you out or you starved you heard a short knock on the door, well it looks like you might last a few more weeks than you’d anticipated.

            You opened the door to see Darius standing there, tall and proud, “good morning Miss, I’ve been instructed to take you shopping for some new clothes, it seems Maxwell has anticipated your start at his Lord Industries this coming Monday and I’ve been told to show you the dress code of such a company, though with us both knowing Maxwell like we do I’m sure you could assume.” Ahh so he hadn’t forgotten you, that’s a good sign. 

 “Darius please, if you keep calling me miss, I'll start calling you sir and I don’t think either of us would prefer that. Y/N is a fine name and I think I would like to hear it more often. And yes, I’m sure I could assume the dress code Max ‘requires’ though I’m sure most of my clothes would suit that.”

            Darius let a short puff of air out of his nose, what you had come to know as him laughing apparently. “while that is true miss- ahh sorry Y/N, the man is loaded and quite frankly a scoundrel, let’s go load up for the sake of it, I’m sure you would appreciate a new pair of boots, the ones I met you didn’t see you have any arch support.” He had a slight smirk on his face as he spoke to you. 

 “Darius that’s scandalous, also leave my Docs out of this, they might as well be vintage, my mother bought them in the UK in the 60s” you said looking down at your cherry red docs, which had obviously seen way more than they should have. 

 “Ahh so they’re definitely provided no support, your poor feet, we must amend this. Come on, get dressed in the next ten minutes or I’m going to drag you out of this door by those frayed laces.” 

 While it sounded harsh, the tone of his voice and the expression accompanied let you know that he was joking with you, he could be quite cheeky as you’d noticed the first night you met him, although he acted quite different in front of Max, in fact he didn’t act like anything in front of Max, he was silent, if you couldn’t see him you’d assume the car drove itself. The demeanor change between them concerned you slightly. 

 “Alright no need to get violent, I’ll be just a sec.”

             When Darius told you that you’d be going shopping you’d assumed you’d be going to a mall, so it confused you completely when you drove past the mall you’d shopped at so many times, only for him to drive into the rich side of town, the streets were lined with high end fashion stores and boutique cafes, and oh look at that, more illegible French on restaurant windows.

             Walking around this part of town in a miniskirt and a boxy blouse felt wrong, you really didn’t fit in here. Darius led the way, practically pulling you into stores, seemingly knowing every sales assistant in each shop, it made you slightly insecure, how many times had Darius brought someone like you to go shopping, you weren’t used to being one of many. Most of the men you previously had arrangements with had only been involved with you, and the occasional wife, (yes they know don’t look at yourself with such disdain), it didn’t sit well with you that you might be sharing Max’s affections.

             You tried on dress after skirt after blouse after horrible blazers with those horrible shoulder pads. God you missed the trends of the 70s. You really didn’t know what you were looking for, thankfully Darius had been leading the expedition, telling the assistants which clothes you would be requiring. Each time they took the item to the checkout you felt a sense of guilt, it was really starting to pile up, finally after a particularly hideous ensemble consisting of cheetah print, neon green and you guessed, shoulder pads, Darius called time, deciding that you had both racked up quite the amount on Max’s card, (though you really don’t think you could take any of the credit, or blame.)

             “Y/N I don’t mean to intrude but you’ve been uncharacteristically quiet through the last few stores, is there something wrong?” honestly you didn’t know if there is although you couldn’t deny your silence was out of place. “yeah of course I’m fine, I just get overwhelmed when shopping, that’s all, it's no big deal, it was nice that you knew everyone.” You paused for only a moment contemplating whether you should ask your next question but before you could even stop yourself our mouth was spewing out the words, “how did you know everyone by the way?”

             “Before I was Mr. Lord’s driver, I was a driver to Mrs. Lord. No, no it's not what you think. Maxwell and marriage aren’t two words that go in the same sentence. Mrs. Lord was his mother. She was quite the shopper and not the talker. So, while she was trying on clothes, I made friends with the clerks. It made both our times much more pleasant around her Highness.” somehow and for some reason it eased you to know that it was Maxwell’s mother that made the connection and not a line of women preceding you. 

             “What is Mrs. Lord like?'' Maybe the person who raised Max is an indication as to who he is now. 

 “Was, actually, she died when Maxwell was 17, along with her father, it was terrible really, their private jet went down over the triangle, it's such a shame, Max really needed his parents around that time, after that the house help and I remained the only thing close to family he had, he shut off and down, became ruthless and cold, he used to be such a bright and kind young man, I saw the life leave his eyes the day he found out that it had left his parents. I'm sorry Miss I’ve probably already said too much, I’m not really sure I should be speaking with you about this, it's not that I don't trust you but Maxwell is very private, if I hadn’t have been there to see it I would never know, he has never spoken about his parents, to anyone.” 

             Somehow what Darius said about Max and his parents really stuck with you, even after you’d gotten back to the apartment, you couldn't stop thinking about how horrible it must have been to grow up without parents, especially through such important years like his 20s, they’d miss every milestone he has in his adult life and he’ll miss having his parents there for them. You didn't have much time to think on it, you'd only been home about 30 minutes before the phone starting ringing on the nightstand next to you, you picked up the receiver to hear a breathy voice on the other side, “angel, I’m gonna need you to open the door,” and then the call was dropped.

             Maxwell. You rushed to the door, when you swung it open you noticed a slightly disheveled Maxwell staring at you with darkness clouding his eyes, “you know you could have just kno-” but you were cut off when he pushed the door closed and slammed you against it, his lips smacking straight into yours in a fit of heat and passion, you weren’t sure where this was going but you weren’t going to complain, “just shut up, I’m pissed and I wanna fuck you. Now. go to the bedroom, make sure you’re naked, face down. Do you understand?” you just nodded, looking up at him with what he assumed to be excitement, you basically sprinted to the bedroom, quickly undressed and headed his note to be face down. As you anxiously anticipated what he was going to do to you, all thoughts of his parents had been replaced with possibility. 

             “God you're such a good girl for me aren't you” he was standing at the door staring at you, eyes raking over your naked body. You heard his footsteps get closer to the bed and then suddenly you were hit with a sharp smack to your ass, “god this ass is fucking incredible, I can’t wait to see how it looks in all those new clothes you bought, wanna give me a private show of them?” “yes, sir I’d love to” your voice was high and almost pathetic sounding, Max had done nothing more than briefly spank your ass and suddenly you're already so out of breath. “Not now angel, you’re going to let me fuck you good, and then you’re going to show me how well you can walk afterwards.” 

             You heard him undo his belt and then clothing hit the floor, the bed dipped either side of your thighs and suddenly both his hands were on our hips and he was pulling up to him in one swift lift, “god this pussy, is fucking beautiful, and you’re already so wet, is this what I do to you? You like being manhandled like this doll?” you just whimpered at him praying he would touch you. “Come on angel with your words, tell me how this is affecting you.” you could hear the devil's patented smirk on his face as he spoke, knowing how riled up he was getting you. “Yes sir, I love it, I love when you throw me around, you're making me so needy sir please I love it please do more” you could barely pause to take a  breath you felt so needy and so pathetic that he was affecting you in this way but after the last night you spent together you thought you were right to be. 

             “There's no time to play around tonight angel, I need you now.” His voice was harsh and low, it made you cower away from him, but his grip on our hips was strong and tight and he wasn't letting you go anywhere, he spanked you, one, two, three more times, “are you ready angel” you could tell he was impatient and so were you. “Yes, dear god yes please, please just fuck me.” and with your words, he slammed into you, his hips hitting your ass with the force of a freight train. For someone who sounded so desperate he was going admirably slow, every thrust into your pussy was forceful almost calculated, as he rammed into you. You felt frustrated at his pace, like he was holding back and that is not what you needed right now, you needed him to fuck you, rough, hard, fast. Now. “Please, Max don’t make me beg for it please just fuck me, use me, I need you to go faster, be rough with me please.” 

             “My pretty girl so whiny,” he quickened his pace, pistoning into you sending your brain into a frenzy, your legs already turning to jelly, “is this how you want it princess? Me fucking you like a little whore? Hmm?” his words were almost enough to drive you over the edge already, you had barely even started, and you felt like you were already close. “Please Max it’s so good fuck so good sir I love it when you use me.” 

             Max pulled out of you, and before you even had time to protest he had flipped you over, he shoved three fingers deep inside you, looking down on like he was ready to eat you whole. “You filthy little girl, you're ready to cum, aren't you? I've barely even gotten started and you're ready to finish? No that's not how this is going to work. Let's see how many times you can cum for me, let's see how many orgasms I can pull out of this beautiful cunt.” his words were as vulgar as the way he was fucking you with his fingers, if you both hadn’t been breathing so hard you’d be able to hear how wet you were, every thrust sending like heaven to his ears. He removed his fingers and lined himself up once again, no time for teasing he thrust back into you, resetting the fast pace he had previously set. “Tell me how rough you want it doll, tell me what you want from me.”

             Your mind swirled with the possibilities, all you could choke out was, “choke me, and smack me, I’m your whore please please please just use me.” immediately one hand flew to your throat, grasping it tightly but not enough to cut off your air supply. He kept ramming into you and you could feel yourself starting to get close as you moaned so loudly “Sir please, please, I’m so close, please let me cum” “do it doll, come all over my dick I want to feel your pussy cry for me.” and with his words you did just that, the hand around your throat tightened as you fell into sick bliss, your brain was experiencing an orgasm 100 times better than it ever had and you couldn't tell whether it was the lack of oxygen or Max’s dick that was making you feel higher than any drug could take you. As you came down, Max was still fucking you, slower than before but not as excruciating as originally.

             “I think if we had any neighbours up here you would have just earned us a noise complaint.” he smirked down at you. Yu were still dazed, pathetically smiling up at him when a harsh smack hit your face waking you up. “Already so fucked out baby how cute,” he knew just how to get you going, his lips were back on yours as he kept fucking into, drilling his cock deeper and deeper. You were whining and moaning not caring at this point if half of the city heard you, you were getting the fuck of a life time and as you screamed out Maxwell’s name you’d hoped everyone would hear how well the most important man in the city was fucking you. 

             “You ready for one more baby doll coz I’m getting close and I don’t wanna leave you behind.” he didn’t give you time to respond when his thumb flew to your clit rubbing it in circles almost as fervently as he was fucking you, and just as Max had planned you started to feel like you were on the edge again. 

             “Max please I’m close again.” you warned him, he sped up, quickening his pace even more somehow, “not without me doll you hold it until I say you can come you understand me?” you whined out a breathy yes, hoping you could head his orders, it felt like an eternity before he finally whispered, “Cum” in your ear and you did just that. Both you and Max were a moaning screaming jumble of limbs as you milked his cock dry and he pounded into you savouring the sweet release. He fell on top of you, both sweating profusely as you laughed out. “I don't know if you'll be getting that fashion show, I don't know if I can't even stand on these legs let alone walk. 

             He laughed as well, it was a nice laugh, you quite liked it. 

Max got up, helping you to the bathroom and sitting you in the shower, he told you to sit and wait for the water to warm but you told him it was no problem, your hot water got cut off a few times at your old apartment so cold showers were almost the norm for you. As you sat in the shower trying to regain what little focus you had, you had expected the door to close and for Maxwell to leave, but when you finally emerged from the shower you saw him sitting on your bed, well his bed.

             “Have a drink or you'll get dehydrated.” he said, pointing at the glass of water on the nightstand. You never expected Max to be so caring after sex, you’d fallen asleep after the last time, so you guessed he just didn’t care about aftercare. 

             “I think if you keep this up, I may be paralysed, my legs don’t work properly, if you want me to make it to work.” 

             “Yeah, I think I would rather see you at work on Monday, might fuck you on my desk to make up for lost time this weekend. How does that sound, angel?” God did that sound good, you wanted him to absolutely rail you if you were being honest, you had no concern as to whether anyone would hear you or not. 

             You woke up in the early hours of that Saturday morning, alone once again in bed, your legs felt like jelly and they were almost torture to walk on. You trudged your way into the kitchen, hoping to find something you could eat, when you saw Maxwell sitting on the counter, not on a chair at the counter, on the counter with his legs dangling like a little kid. “Good morning Maxwell.” your voice made him jump a little, clearly not expecting to see you there, he didn't move from his position on the counter though. You walked towards the emptying fridge and picked out an apple, placing yourself between his legs has you took a bite, “good morning to you too angel, we have got to get that fridge stocked up.” he must have seen how little you had in there, you'd spent so much on clothes and yet you spent less than 50 on groceries, where were your priorities?

             “Oh no it's okay, I’ll just buy some next week after I get paid. It's no big deal. I'm used to not having a lot to eat. I'll be fine.” you were telling the truth; you never had a lot of money to buy food after utilities and rent. “Well, be that as it may angel, I’m not letting you starve until then, you can just take one of my cards, we have a specific arrangement here and I know I got you a job at my company but I’d like to know you're living up to your own tastes and requirements, I have plenty of money to burn and this is an offer I will not let you refuse, do you understand me? 

“Yes sir, I understand.” 

                         “Don't you dare get me all riled up right now I don't think you could handle another round, or three.” he was right. You couldn't. But god did you want to. “Do you have any plans today or tomorrow?” he asked you, you weren't sure why, but now that you thought about it you did have plans. 

“Yes, actually I do. I've got lunch with my friend jade today and then we're going to see that new movie, Footloose. I think it's called, anyway, Kevin Bacon is in it and he's totally rocking so I don't care what it's about.” you couldn't be sure but you thought you saw Max tense up a little at your comment on Kevin bacon. Eh, who knows what goes on in that man's head. Who cares? 

           Meeting Jade that afternoon seemed to be a lot harder than it should have been, Max did not let you leave the bed until you were at least three orgasms deep and your voice was hoarse. “Maybe next time we can do it on that kitchen counter.” he says to you after he finally catches his breath. “Max! People eat there!” you were shocked at his remarks but honestly you thought it kind of hot. “Yeah and I want to eat there too.” his smirk was so heavy on his voice your pussy actually quivered at the thought of Max eating you out on the kitchen counter. 

           “Well I need to get dressed and meet my friend, so you better let me get up, or do I need another orgasm to get permission for that?” Max just laughed and waved you off, silently telling you to go get ready. 

Jade had been one of your closest friends since you moved to the big city you now called home. She was sassy and brilliant, an amazingly talented person, you were honestly jealous of her at times, she was an incredible writer and she was almost done film school, she was killing it and you felt like you were lagging behind in life, but that doesn't mean you couldn't be happy for her, (and gather potential black mail so she would put you in one of her movies when she becomes a big amazing director.) 

           “Hi, why haven't you called me in a week and a half?’ “well hello to you too Jade, and it's none of your business but it happens to do with a shared interest of ours.” you hadn't realized that you haven't spoken to her in that long, you can't believe it had only and yet already been a week and a half since you met Max.

“You’re fucking Maxwell Lord, aren’t you?” she deadpanned. You couldn't tell if she was psychic or just pulling a fake out, but alas you put her mind to rest with a (slightly) shouted. “HOW DID YOU KNOW?” okay, fake out, you put your foot in it now. “Yes, but oh my god you can't say anything to anyone okay?” your voice was much quieter now with a lot more stress laced in it. “Oh my god I have to tell everyone. OW! Okay I won’t tell anyone but hold fuck how?” and so you told her. You told her about the bar with the sticky floor, the sex you had in his apartment that night, his car, Darius, the fact that he didn’t want him living at your house so he gave you one of his to live in, the sex you had this morning and the job he gave you. 

“So, you're telling me you gave this guy such a good blow job he made you head of accounting? Your power of sex never ceases to amaze me. Hey when you’re rich can you buy me a house please I’m dying in that apartment, if my brother doesn’t find his own place soon I may actually fucking kill him, and you’re going to have to help me hide the body and I know you don’t like hiding bodies but this is my murder to-” “oh my god shut up, first of all, you say that like he’s gonna give me enough money to buy myself a house let alone you.” you cut her off, it was true, you didn't really anticipate him giving you that much and if Halo’s paycheck was anything to go by you won't have enough to buy yourself a house on that salary, you'll barely be able to afford rent when Maxwell, inevitably, tells you to move out. 

“Oh please I give it a month, two tops, before he's in love with you and asking you to move into his big fancy apartment on the other side of town.” you did like the sound of the big fancy apartment, but neither you nor Max seemed like the type to want a relationship out of your arrangement. “no, this is just sex and money.” you weren't sure if you were telling her or yourself, but you said it with enough conviction that she seemed to believe it. 

“Okay but if you do end up dating the bachelor boy be careful, from what I hear he's bad news and not just business wise. Rumour is that he killed his fiancée a couple years back, they got into a car crash in England and no one has seen her since. He said she lived and left him, but who goes to England and just leaves?” 

You weren't sure how, but you'd never heard that rumour before, sure you'd only moved here 3 years ago but you'd think something like that would be hot news around town for ages. “I’m sure that’s just a rumour Jade he really doesn't seem like the type to be involved in something like murdering his fiancée.” 

“I'm just looking out for you, I could be wrong, but if he tries to take you to England, I'm kidnapping you first. Deal?”

“Deal.”

to be continued...

tags: @mandoalorian-mainblog​ @mrschiltoncat​

[freudensteins-monster]

Live From My Bedroom! It’s Darcy Lewis!

Based on a fic prompt I received forever ago and have been working on ever since.

Images used in the fake youtube screenshots were sourced almost entirely from Kat Dennings and RDJ's social media accounts.

Please note that this has been written in a very basic script/video transcript format. And has not been beta'd. Fingers crossed it's still easy to read. xoxox

Chapter One: Whatever Happened to Darcy Lewis?

[Title Card: A cheap animated explosion solely using colours from the Lisa Frank colour wheel with the text “LIVE FROM MY BEDROOM! IT’S DARCY LEWIS!” in the middle.]

[Video opens on a cheerful woman in her 30’s sitting in what looks like a teenager’s bedroom from the 90’s. The walls are covered in band/movie posters and the shelves are full of books, Barbies, and other toys from the era. The woman has long wavy brown hair and she is wearing a dark blue t-shirt with a Grumpy Bear symbol on it.]

Hello world! It’s Darcy Lewis here, cashing in on the childhood nostalgia train by launching my very own youtube channel. [winning smile] So… Whatever Happened to Darcy Lewis? This was a question posed to me by a random stranger after she had been staring at me for a solid five minutes as I stood in the tampon aisle of my local grocery store trying to make a decision.

[Cut scene]

[Text on screen: *Dramatic recreation]

[Darcy, dressed in basic t-shirt, staring at shelf of tampons]

[notices someone watching her]

[turns head]

Darcy dressed up like a yoga mom, caught staring: OMG. I am so sorry. It’s just that you look just like that kid from that tv show.

Darcy, dressed in a basic t-shirt, holding two boxes of tampons: [deadpan voice] I get that all the time.

Yoga Mom!Darcy: [deep in thought] Whatever happened to that girl anyway?

Darcy: [still holding up two boxes of tampons] I heard she moved to Florida to breed alligators.

Yoga Mom!Darcy: [shocked face] Really?!

Darcy: [still holding up two boxes of tampons] …No.

[End cut scene]

So, yeah, I am that kid from that tv show. In 1990, at the age of five, I was cast in the sitcom Live from Suburbia! If you don’t remember it you were probably watching Full House. That, or you’re just too young. It’ll be thirty years this month since Live from Suburbia! first aired, and come December I am going to be thirty-five years old.

[video goes black and white, zooms in on a distraught Darcy’s face]

[Psycho shower scene music plays]

[Darcy shakes herself out of it and video returns to normal]

So, yeah, I forgive you if you haven’t seen it.

[Text flashes on screen: HEY NETFLIX! PICK IT UP ALREADY!]

My parents have probably never even seen an episode they weren’t on set for either. They were never really keen on the idea of me becoming a child actor. They’re both college professors – they were prepared for, like, mathletes or debate club, not driving me to auditions and having me take classes with a tutor in a trailer parked outside a soundstage. [laughs] But I was super obsessed with Drew Barrymore in E.T. and when my mom explained that E.T. wasn’t real, and that Drew was an actress, I decided that was what I wanted to do. So when I heard people talking about auditions being held at a local shopping mall, and that they were looking for a “precocious” 5-6 year old girl, I kind of demanded that my parents let me go. That audition was for a cereal commercial – I didn’t get it, but the casting director liked me so when they were starting the casting process for Live from Suburbia! they asked me to audition for the role of Siouxsie.

[Text appears on screen: *NOT SUSIE. SIOUXSIE. LIKE SIOUXSIE AND THE BANSHEES. #endthedebate]

Live from Suburbia! was about a wannabe rock star from LA, played by a pre-famous, pre-infamous, Tony Stark, who had to put his dreams on hold and move to the suburbs when he becomes the sole guardian of his two kids; Siouxsie and Hendrix, played by a pre-teen Clint Barton. You might recognise him too; his most recent album just went platinum.

[images of Clint Barton rocking out on stages around the world flash on screen]

The show was axed in 1994 and I pretty much went back to the real world for a few years and went back to school full time. My parents were pretty insistent on that. Towards the end of middle school they let me get back in contact with my agent and I soon got a recurring role as mean girl Kaitlyn on the Disney Channel show Total Drama Teens. And later on when I was a senior in high school I played Void, the goth hacker-slash-tech support to a brooding vigilante in one of the last great straight-to-video action duds of the Blockbuster era. 

[sudden dramatic close up] 

But we don’t talk about that. 

[zoom out]

After high school I went to Culver University and studied full time. My parents insisted I get a “real degree” so I ended up majoring in Political Science with a minor in Drama, instead of the other way around, and without the Political Science, like I wanted. After I graduated, despite my parents’ concerns, I moved to L.A. to try and become an actress full time. You might remember me from such unforgettable roles as the “kooky” comedic relief-slash-best friend in five different rom-coms from the mid-2000’s – four of which were called Jenny. I am not kidding. 

[Images of her characters appear on screen: Jenny, Jenny, Jennie, Madison, and Jenny.]

I’ve also had bit parts on every Law & Order and CSI series there is, and had recurring roles as the “kooky” girlfriend in about three different sitcoms over the past five years. 

[Darcy sighs]

[Text on screen: SIGHS IN TYPECAST]

Most recently I finished work on my first serious dramatic role in an indie movie called Bottled Lightning. It’s been entered in a few film festivals, I’ve gotten some good reviews for my performance, but as of last week it had still not secured a distribution deal. So, yeah… That one’s probably only going to be seen by a dozen film critics from three different film festivals and then sort of disappear into the unknown. [pouts] So here I am. Taking a break from the grind of auditioning. In my time capsule of a childhood bedroom. Housesitting for my parents while they’re drinking their way across Europe. 

[Darcy sighs again]

[Text on screen: SIGHS IN UNREALISED POTENTIAL]

My parents suggested I just give up on the whole acting thing altogether, move closer to them, get a “real job”… So I created a youtube channel instead. [cheeky smile] I’ve got a few ideas for upcoming episodes. Next week I’m going to be doing a reaction video to the pilot episode of Live from Suburbia! It’s been a good twenty-five years since I’ve seen it, but I’ve got the entire series on VHS. …just got to figure out how to get that digital so I can insert it into one of these videos…

[pensive music]

[Text on screen: COME ON NETFLIX! HELP A GIRL OUT!]

And then maybe a reaction to the first episode of Full House, or a review of the best child actor performances... Maybe if these videos get some traction I might even be able to do some interviews with other child actors – what do you think? Let me know in the comments. And I’m sure you know the drill already: Like, Subscribe, and Share. Thanks for dropping by! I’ll see you next week!

[Darcy blows a kiss to camera, screen fades to black]

NEXT VIDEO: Live from Suburbia! Pilot Episode Reaction (feat. Fizzgig)

*** ** ***

Notes: NEXT VIDEO is not indicative of what the next chapter is about but done simply to imply that Darcy has a whole lot of other videos on her channel that I haven’t written. Also, I named her parent’s cat Fizzgig for the 80s/90s kid vibes.

Tagging everyone who commented on the original tumblr fic prompt in case you wanted to see the end result. @zephrbabe @evieplease @endlesscalendar @lynnestra44 @founderofshield @oldenoughtobeyourmama  @typhoidmeri @phoenix-173 @suzieqsez @kiaraalexisklay @slytherinstarkravingmad​

[preppinglite]

Prepping For: Civil Unrest

This is the first of a series of posts covering different scenarios you might want to be prepared for and what you can do now to increase your safety later. Not every scenario will apply to you - it’s up to you to determine what risks you face given your location, lifestyle, and needs. 

What is civil unrest?

Examples include the Rodney King riots of 1992, the Ferguson riot and related events in 2014, and more. Civil unrest usually begins with a protest that gets out of hand, often when people who were not initially involved in the protest see it as an opportunity to get away with stirring up chaos or who use existing chaos as cover for looting and other illegal activities.

Civil unrest can be isolated to a neighborhood or city center, or it can happen in multiple locations around the country or even around the world at the same time. The nature and intensity of the unrest will influence your response.

Note: The advice in this post also applies to a situation like the Boston Marathon bombing where the cities of Boston, Watertown, and Cambridge were under a “shelter-in-place” recommendation for several days after the initial terrorist attack while law enforcement searched for the suspects. 

Why prep for civil unrest?

- It can prevent you from going about your normal activities if it is occurring in your neighborhood or near your place of work. Streets may be blocked, stores may be closed, and in some cases it may not be safe to go outside.

- It can begin with very little warning. Protests and rallies happen all the time; it is difficult to predict which ones will turn violent or chaotic. In the case of the Rodney King riots, protests began within 30 minutes of the verdict and violence and looting began about an hour after the verdict. Someone who was at home and not paying attention to the news may not have known what was going on until after the full-scale riots and looting began within 3 hours of the verdict. 

- It’s difficult to predict how long civil unrest will last. Some riots can be de-escalated within hours. The Rodney King riots began on April 29, 1992 and lasted until May 2nd with some incidents occurring on May 3rd, but the last National Guardsmen didn’t leave until May 27th, almost a month later. 

Who should prep for civil unrest?

People who live or work in a major city (especially near the city center) or people who visit a major city center often (for instance, going out on the weekends). Since unrest can happen quickly, you don’t want to be caught off-guard while you’re enjoying dinner and drinks downtown. 

Also, if you see indications that suggest national-level civil unrest may happen soon (such as a certain upcoming election that may ignite protests should a certain candidate win again), you should prepare regardless of where you live. 

How to prep for civil unrest: 

Preps that apply to multiple scenarios:

- Store 2 weeks of food and water at all times. 

- If you are on medications, make sure you always have a couple of weeks’ worth. For most people, that simply means getting your refill when you still have 2-3 weeks left, but for some it may involve a conversation with your doctor if your medication is highly controlled (aka high risk for overdose or abuse). Explain that you are trying to follow guidelines for emergency preparedness. Caution: Do not change your medication routine (taking a smaller dose or taking medicine less often) in order to save up extra.

- Keep a first aid kit well-stocked, and consider getting a tourniquet kit in case the chaos spreads to your neighborhood.

- Keep your car’s gas tank at 1/2 full or more at all times. In a disaster, gas pumps may be broken, gas stations may be crowded, and shortages may occur. 

- Keep an inventory (with photos) of valuables in your home, as well as photos of your property. If damage occurs to your home or property from any disaster event, you will want these photos to make your insurance claim. Update the inventory often. Keep this inventory on paper and digitally.

- Keep the paper copy with your other important documents (Passport, birth certificate, social security card, marriage license, property deed or rental agreement, and so on). Have these documents in a folder or binder that you can quickly grab if you have to leave home in a hurry.

- Take self-defense classes and consider taking firearms classes and buying a firearm you can safely and reliably use. You should be prepared for both armed and unarmed combat.

- Plan a bug-out location (BOL) outside your city. This may be a friend or family member who lives in another town or in a rural area, it may be property you own (like a cabin), or it may be public land or a state/national park. The important thing is to know where the location is and how to get there if your gps or smartphone is not functioning. Consider having one location that is accessible within a day on foot, and one that is further away that can be accessed by car. Depending on  the disaster, roads may be impassable, you might run out of gas, or your car could be damaged or stolen. Note:  Make sure that if it is a family member or friend’s house that you discuss your plans with them in advance - you don’t want to show up unannounced during a disaster!

- Identify at least three routes out of your city by car (only one of those should use a major highway, the other two should use side streets) and two on foot or by bicycle. If unrest gets severe and seems like it will be prolonged, you may want to bug out. If everyone else has the same idea, major streets and highways will get congested, forcing you to seek alternate routes. You do NOT want to be stuck in traffic if riots are happening in the streets. 

Specific preps for civil unrest:

- Review the entry points to your home (doors and windows) and identify the best ways to secure them. If possible, keep plywood in your garage/shed that could be used to board windows and doors if severe unrest reaches your neighborhood. Alternatively, identify large, heavy pieces of furniture that could be moved to barricade entry points. If you choose this option, consider practicing how you would move furniture to ensure you can do so quickly and safely. 

- Consider closed-circuit security cameras (I do NOT recommend internet-enabled ones for privacy reasons). These can also be generally useful if you live in an area with a high crime rate. 

- Keep an eye on the news and identify events that could lead to civil unrest, such as controversial court cases, elections, and racial tensions. If you see signs that unrest may be coming, review your preps (or consider planning a vacation to the countryside). The unrest may not happen, but it is better to be prepared. 

- Avoid the city center on the day when you believe unrest may occur. If you work in the city, go directly home after work with no unnecessary stops. 

If unrest occurs in your city: 

- If you are outside the city, stay away. Avoid all trips into town. If you have prepared, you’ll be able to go at least two weeks without visiting the grocery store. If you work near the area where unrest is happening, contact your supervisor or office and ask if it is possible to work from home or if they are closing the office in response to the event. Indicate that you do not feel safe going into town given the ongoing events. Don’t go in if you don’t feel safe - it’s better to be fired for skipping work than to be killed or severely injured in a riot. 

- If you are in the city but not near the riots, stay home and keep an eye on the news. If you need to go to work, determine whether your commute will take you through the affected area and identify alternate routes. 

- If the unrest is happening in your neighborhood, shelter in place and barricade doors and windows. Make sure any firearms you own are accessible and loaded in case looters try to break into your home. 

- If the unrest lasts more than a few days or you believe it is moving toward your neighborhood, consider bugging out. Review the five routes you identified (three by car, two on foot or bike) and determine the one that gets you far away from the unrest as quickly as possible. Even if you have to go the opposite direction from your bug out location, it’s better to get out first and then go the long way around than to drive through or near the impacted area. 

- If unrest is widespread or happening on a national scale, and especially if the military/national guard is involved, consider getting away from town completely and seeking out either your BOL if you have one in a rural area or a campground or other public land where you can stay temporarily. 

When the unrest is over: 

- Use caution in determining when the event is truly over. Officials may prematurely call an end to the unrest in the hope of calming the public, but there may still be people on the streets looking to keep it going. Return to your normal routine, but avoid unnecessary time spent in the area where the unrest occurred.

- If you had to leave your home, use caution when returning. If you suspect your home was broken into, call the police and ask them to check it for you before you enter. Only clear you home yourself IF you have training to do so. Watching actors do it on TV does not count as training.

- Take pictures of any damage immediately to submit insurance claims if applicable.

Final Notes:

- No prep is 100%. Things may not go as you expect, so always have a Plan B and a Plan C. 

- Be vigilant. Your chances are best if you see disaster coming and act before it strikes, rather than reacting afterward along with everyone else. 

- You might have all the preps in the world and then live to a ripe old age with no disasters happening to you. There’s no guarantee that any particular disaster will happen. Don’t be so consumed with prepping that you are not prepared for the possibility that nothing happens.